Binding Fate
by Naga
Summary: A young Genjo Sanzo was distracted from his journey by a mysterious voice calling for him...
1. Binding Fate - Chapter 1

A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION

A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION By NAGA _Disclaimer: This fanfic is based on Saiyuki Minekura Kazuya. There is no profit to be made and no copyright infringement was intended.  __ __Ratings: PG13 (I think ^^;, violence, no adult content, sorry folks ; ) __Timeline: The story starts before Genjo Sanzo's first meeting with Son Gokuu __Spoiler: A tiny bit – mostly from the Shuen story line _

BINDING FATE 

The voice was driving him crazy. 

Sanzo gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to clap his hands over his ears. It would not help. He had tried it.

Not that it was loud - no, that was not the problem. In fact, the first few times he heard it he thought it was just the wind sighing among the forest's branches and had ignored it. Until he heard it again. And again… and again… 

Persistent son of a bitch.

He refused to admit that it spooked him. The humans in the small village he had passed some way back had warned him in hushed voices that the forest was haunted, tainted by the many violent deaths perpetrated inside it. That the human-killer, renegade youkai of immense power had made it its hunting ground and presided over it from the top of the towering mountain range surrounding the forest. 

He had not been impressed. He had stayed only long enough to replenish his depleted provisions and had set off immediately for this forest, despite the villagers fearful pleadings. They had been afraid that a lone priest, especially one as young as he was, would have no chance. 

They did not understand. The more powerful the youkai was supposed to be, the more interested he was. After all, the youkai that had killed his teacher had been powerful. 

But the moment he had entered this forest, _it had started. _

A rustling far from the left snapped him into action, the Shoureijuu up and pointing at the direction before he had fully turned. A tense silence followed before he caught sight of brown fur and long curling tail flicking among the leaves. 

He let the gun fall down with an annoyed sigh. "Monkeys…," he muttered irritably. Annoying pests. The whole forest was invested with them, according to the villagers, and so were the surrounding mountains. They stole fruits, crops, the occasional food and sweets set too near the windows. Not dangerous activities, but a hell of a nuisance. 

If the youkai had had a taste for monkey flesh and not human, he would have been made a hero by those villagers. 

A strong gust of wind rustled of the top foliage of the trees, and following on it, a softer sigh, a call... 

_......here..._

Swearing a foul oath that would have shocked other monks into fits, Sanzo whirled around in the general direction the voice had come from. "Why don't you come out here and fight me, coward? Quit playing this ridiculous game, you spineless misbegotten son-of-a-worm!!"

He stood there with breath heaving, listening. No reply. Not even an indication that the other, whoever or whatever it was, had heard him. 

With a snarl, Sanzo resumed trudging on the faint game track. _I swear when I get my hands on him, I'm going to rip his head off...!!_

***

The water was fresh and cooling, soothing more than just his body but also his frayed temper. The brook burbled cheerfully along its channel of worn gravels as he scooped another mouthful of water. He wiped his lips on one sleeve and wondered if he ought to think of another strategy. From the villagers' description, he had thought that simply wondering around the forest would eventually let him meet up with the youkai. But almost three days had passed and he had not sensed even a whiff of youki. 

They were probably exaggerating the frequency of attacks, he thought sourly. For a while he listed a few choice words he would grace them with when he returned. 

A sliver of knife-edged ice flashed at the edge of his mind and went straight to his guts. His breath hitched on his throat and he scrambled to throw his exposed back against a large boulder beside him. The gun was already cocked and sighting on the forest without his conscious thought even as his skin tried to crawl off his flesh. 

"So, finally coming out to play, eh?" The edge of his thin lips curled up in a tight smile that was almost a grimace. It transformed the lean, sharp angles of his young face into a predatory mask. _Let's get this over with. Let me see your face. Let me see if you're who I'm looking for. _

That icy feel - eager, needy, and so, so hungry - did not increase, but neither did it disappear. Sanzo carefully edged up to his feet, back still braced against the stone. His violet eyes gave the forest one quick scan, but he relied more on that awareness of youki in his guts rather than mere sight. Eyes, ears, those purely physical senses could be deceived too easily. Especially when the enemy was of the youkai race who was both faster and stronger than humans. 

Silence. The birds had stopped singing some time ago and the forest was smothered with an unnatural stillness. 

Sanzo cocked his head to aside, straining to at least pinpoint the direction the youki was coming from. But it was hard. That icy sense was everywhere, weighing down the air and he fancied he could feel it trying to seep into his bones and freeze his marrows. He licked his dry lips, absorbing the fear that was turning his stomach into knots and feeding it to that core of harsh rage that had formed in his soul since seven years ago. It burned brighter, that rage, and its cold heat seared the fear away as he had intended. 

"Not coming?" He hurled the challenge out, the words falling like slaps in the too-still air. "What, the powerful youkai who killed countless humans afraid of one little monk?" He sneered. "I'm so disappointed. I suppose your reputation's worth about as much as the hot air coming out of your ass."

The youki peaked, the sliver turning into a jagged spear. 

_There!_

Sanzo threw himself to the side even as he fired to his right, two rapid shots of mantra-enhanced bullets that pierced the air and left multiple trails of burning sun-brightness in his sight. A shadow sped past and something hit the boulder where his head used to be. A huge chunk of stone exploded, showering gravels and pulverized stone-dust all over the place. Sharp pain sliced across his cheek, narrowly mising the right eye. He hissed, curling to his side and raising one hand to protect his face and eyes. Ears still ringing from the explosion and the gun-shots, he grimly concentrated on the feel of the youki. Did he get the youkai?

_Above!!_

His eyes shot open. He caught a glimpse of dark shape outlined against the sun, coming down straight for him, then the muzzle of his gun was superimposed over the figure and two more of the precious bullets tore out of the barrel. He thought he saw it jerked but he was already rolling his body away, desperately trying to put as much space as possible. 

_He's going to fall right on me!_

Heavy impact jarred the ground behind him and before he could turn a heavy blow caught him full across the back. It felt like being hit with a log - a big one. The force of it threw him a couple of meters and he hit the gravel surface hard, skidding and scraping flesh off his right arm and leg. His body slammed abruptly against something hard and the force whipped his neck back. His head cracked sickeningly against that same unyielding surface and his vision blacked out.

Sanzo came awake blinking in a daze, unable to tell exactly when the blackness turned into wavery vision. Awareness came more slowly. In a distant way, he was aware of tiny stones digging into his right cheek, and a muted sound of gravel crunching behind him. But all he could do was stare numbly at his bloody right arm in front of him, the gun still held loosely by limp fingers. The arm had taken the brunt of the fall and the entire side was skinned, exposing raw flesh, dripping red.

_Meat. He thought crazily. __Take the thin piece of skin away, and we are all meat underneath. Just moving piece of flesh cobbled together, struggling against death. In the end, even the best of us..._

_ _

_...even Oshou-sama..._

._...pieces of flesh, limbs torn off from the body, the jagged white of bone poking out of the stump and glistening wet with dark crimson.... _

_ _

_like a doll after a child had tired with it, except dolls don't bleed, dolls don't spread an ever-widening pool of blood over the floor... _

__

_and no master carver can capture that gentle face, the laugh lines around the mouth and the generous quirk of the lips that had spoken words of love just one minute before... _

A part of him was screaming to him to get up. To move. But it was a distant voice, fighting to be heard among the clamoring of memory in his head. And right now, the memory was louder… much, much louder and drowning in its depth...

Something grabbed hold of his left shoulder and heaved him over to his back. He stared up at indistinct black shape outlined by the noonday sun. There were sounds, words being spoken, but he could not hear enough to make sense of it. Hot liquid trickled down his neck, an annoyance. 

He had to... this one, he had to... what...?

His right shoulder was grabbed and he was roughly jerked to a sitting position. His head fell back limply and breathing suddenly became more difficult. The hold on his shoulder tightened, five points of fiery pain blooming in his shoulder. His left hand reflexively clasped over the pain and he tried to lift his head up, but the effort made his vision tunneled, forcing him to a stop. For a while, he could only hear the sound of his own heavy breathing.

Fingers encircled his neck, cold, cold fingers with long, sharp nails that pricked his skin. 

Shock jolted through his mind, sudden awareness of his incredibly vulnerable position. Fear ran like molten mercury through his veins, and closely followed by it, as it was always the case now, sharp, metallic anger. Rage at being in this position - the role of a powerless victim, rage at himself for being weak, and from that rage, strength surged out of him to lash out, to destroy the cause of the pain. 

Thought did not even come into it - this body of his followed the dark urges so much faster than his mind. His whole body jerked with the force of the blow, his right fist - gun and all - slamming into something hard but unmistakably of flesh and blood. The impact made a solid sound and produced an even more satisfying grunt of pain from the other. 

But not enough. Not enough. His lips pulled back into a snarl and he tried to align the muzzle of his gun. A jarring blow hit the side of his face and he fell back, vision swimming in and out of focus. The gun almost fell out of his right hand. 

Clawed fingers grabbed his hair, the sharp nails scoring his scalp. A powerful hand slammed on the fist holding the gun, and the right thumb on top must had broken because the pain shot up his arm and straight to his chest. He gasped out in pain and felt hot breath brushing his nape, heard the youkai spoke for the first time –

"…damn foul priests… where's your precious gods right now, hmh?" Indistinct words, garbled by the growling tone…

"…nice, white skin… young priest… gonna make me a nice, nice meal…" Hot saliva dripped on his skin, making him shudder in revulsion. The breath came closer, he could smell the carrion stink of it now, a sickly sweetish smell of corruption.

"…or maybe not…" The sneered whisper came behind his ears. "… maybe I'll play with you first. Pretty young priest, you have such pretty eyes on you…" A wet tongue snaked across his nape, scraping across his skin. 

His mind blanked out. Fear, rage boiled out of him and sent fresh jolt of strength down his limbs. He thrashed, lunging forward and ignoring the pain in his scalp. The youkai tightened his grip – it felt like the skin was being ripped off – and leaned forward after him. 

He pushed off his arms and threw his head back as hard as he could. Felt himself hit the youkai's face, felt the crunch of crushed cartilage and a muted howl of pain. Wet soaked his hair and the grip loosened, the youkai reflexively shying away from him. The hand restraining his gun arm was snatched away. 

_ _

_NOW!_

With a cry, he bucked his body, half-throwing off the youkai, and shoved himself sideways. His remaining right fingers spasmed closed on the gun grip and he blindly twisted that arm back, ignoring the screaming of muscles forced into unnatural position. 

The muzzle of the Shoureijuu pressed against something solid and he pulled the trigger, at this point past caring what he hit. The recoil sent fresh pain up his wounded arm, but it was secondary to the youkai's sudden scream of agony. More hot liquid spattered the side of his face, the taste of blood strong and sickening where it spilled on his tongue. The weight on top of him disappeared. 

He rolled all the way around and blinked blurry eyes, the sound of his panting harsh in his ears. The gun was pointing but there was nothing for it to shoot at. 

He blinked again. The youkai was gone. He could see a trail of blood beside him, disappearing near the tree line as if the youkai had taken to the trees. And lying a few meters beside him, a piece of limb – a right arm, blown off at the shoulder. A youkai's arm, with thick musculature and sharp, curved claws. 

He had not hit the vitals - the Shoureijuu had not blown the youkai to bits. 

He lay there panting, feeling the shuddering reaction up and down his body. Stared at the gun in his hand and thinking – there were no bullets left; five shots, and if the youkai had stayed, he'd had him. 

He tried to stand up but his head spun with the effort and his stomach… He sank weakly to knees and elbows, and puked his guts out. The sour taste and smell of vomit made him heave some more even when there was nothing left to throw up. 

"Don't… don't pass out, idiot…" He whispered to himself. The youkai was still nearby, he could come back. He had to refill the Shoureijuu, had to bind his wounds, had to… 

But his vision was tunneling and he was falling fast, falling… ….

***

_…_

_…_

_… yearning…_

_ _

_ _

_who are you?_

_ _

_…here…_

_ _

_stop this…_

__

_…lonely…_

_ _

_why do you keep calling me?_

__

_…I'm here……_

_ _

_I don't know you…_

_ _

_…please…_

_ _

_…stop…_

__

_…miss you…_

_ _

_… …_

_ _

_ _

_…waited so long… all this time…… _

_ _

_…_

_ _

_…miss the light… miss you……_

_ _

_…who are you…_

_ _

_…find me… I'm here….here…_

_ _

_…I don't know where!…_

_ _

_… wait for you… _

_ _

_…promised you…_

_ _

_ _

_… all right…_

_ _

_ _

_…I'll find you…_

_ _

_…so…don't cry anymore…_

_ _

_…_

***

Sanzo woke up with a start. For a long while, he could only stare at the wooden ceiling above. The memory of it, the voice that wasn't a voice still echoing softly in his heart. 

_A voice that wasn't a voice…_

There was something about it that tickled his memory, but right now it eluded his grasp. 

A door creaked open. He turned his head with some difficulty and found a matronly woman standing by the open door with a basin of water.She looked startled at seeing him awake, but recovered quickly. "Ah! You're awake."

Sanzo blinked, trying to prod his mind for some recognition. "You're… from the village," he said haltingly. So he had returned here. But how?

"You're lucky to be alive." The woman bustled in and laid a proprietary hand on his forehead. Sanzo twitched and wondered if it was worth the effort to brush the hand off. Before he could find the strength, she had nodded to herself and looking satisfied. 

"The fever's broken."

Fever? He was just becoming aware that he was lying naked on the bed and the sheets wrapped around him were uncomfortably damp.

"When you didn't return after three days, we thought you were lost." She sat on the bed side and began dipping a wash cloth into the basin and wringing it dry. "Some of us didn't think it right that a monk's body should be exposed out there, especially since you are Genjo Sanzo." She placed the damp cloth on his forehead, ignoring his frown of discomfort at the cold. "Our men found you by the river, unconscious. We couldn't wake you up. I've seen strong men die in their sleep from head injury like yours. It was a good thing you kept waking up by yourself on and off, even though we couldn't rouse you all the way up."

Sanzo lifted his left arm – the right was stiff and unresponsive – and tried to pull the wet compress away. He got slapped on the wrist for his trouble. 

"Leave it there." The woman frowned at him like he was one of her son caught with stolen cookies. "There's still a bit of the fever left."

Sanzo could not quite contain a harassed sigh. He did not like being treated like an invalid. The fact that right now he was, indeed, little more than that, simply added more salt to the wound. 

"You said I was awake?" He could not remember being awake. 

"Mm-hmm. You were talking to youself."

He stiffened. "I was?" 

"Nothing much. Couldn't make out what you were saying. Just caught a few words, like 'stop', 'shut up'… Didn't seem like a nightmare either, so I didn't see the harm of it." She smiled at him, humor in her eyes. "Sounds like you were having a conversation with someone. A friend?"

He heaved a breath. "Friend…? You've got to be kidding me. He…" And stopped. How to explain to her that he had been hearing this imaginary voice for days now and, from what she just told him, had started answering it back? He had no desire to be treated like a lunatic on top of being bed-ridden.

Besides, he found himself reluctant to share his… dream, if it had been that… with anyone. 

The woman stood up. "Rest some more now. I'll bring you some change of sheets and hot water to clean yourself." 

"Wait… Did the search party found anything else?"

She shook her head. "No, but they said they found a hand lying on the ground beside you. A youkai's hand. I suppose you pay him back quite a bit, eh?"

"I suppose…" He muttered. "You sure they didn't find anyone else in the surrounding area?"

"I'm afraid not."

"…thanks." Damn it. He had been hoping the wound had been enough to kill the youkai. 

He barely paid attention as the door snicked close quietly. _If the youkai is still alive… then that voice could be his, couldn't it? _

Sanzo scowled up at the rafters. "Well…," he muttered, "there's only one way to find out. I don't care who you are, I'm going to find you. And when I do, I'll beat the shit out of you."

***

It took him almost a full week before he was prepared to leave to the village. He was wise enough not to rush out prematurely, but that did not mean he did not chafe at the slow pace his body was taking to mend itself. 

And healing was at the top of his least favorite things. The whole of his back was a mess of bruises from the first blow that had sent him flying. It made every little movement hurt. His right arm was stiff with abused muscles and the healing skin itched abominably. There was a lump at the back of his head and another one on the right temple where the youkai had hit him. Finding the proper sleeping position became serious business, and it took a long time for him to lose the headaches. 

On top of that, his broken thumb was useless – he had never truly appreciated the small appendage until he found himself having to switch to left hand for everything from holding chopsticks to practice shooting. 

All in all, it was a very rotten week. 

His temper simmered and built until it was strung out as taut as a wire. When he found himself starting to snap at the innocent villagers for the smallest excuses he could find, he withdrew himself to the empty fields and deserted sheds to spare both sides the aggravation. There, he smoked his fast-depleting stock of precious cigarettes and waited in as close a peace as he could manage. 

On the few occasions when he was in a better mood to socialize, he tried to find out more about the youkai, and discreetly asked if the people knew of any other around the area. He prodded for the exact cause the forest was labeled haunted, even managed to slip in a question about phantom voices and whether any person had ever experienced or heard of such things. 

He was met with exasperatingly blank looks and vague answers. No one had ever recalled hearing 'strange' things in the forest. Why did they call it haunted forest? Didn't Sanzo-sama feel its eeriness? Wasn't that a good enough reason by itself? No, there wasn't any other youkai around, the village had traditionally been occupied by humans only. 

It was frustrating enough to make him chew stones. 

There was one interesting bit of information he found, though. He would have been more heartened if he could be sure his source was not going senile. The old woman with face as wrinkled as sun-dried prune and missing all but four of her teeth had confided in her wavery voice of old legends none but the eldest still remember. She told of a five hundred year old legend of a powerful youkai – and not just any youkai but one with power that could challenge the gods. The legend said that the youkai had committed some hideous crime for which he was condemned from heaven and imprisoned on the mortal world, his power and his body sealed away and damned to watch the world pass by from behind his prison.

The old woman had spoken in hushed voice that it was foretold the youkai would be freed one day, that someone would come and release it from its shackles. That someone already did and now it was loose in the forest and killing humans to appease its anger at the imprisonment. 

Sanzo was skeptical about it – he was of the opinion that legends tend to get distorted beyond all recognition with re-telling. But it was the only thing he could find that even hinted at another possible youkai in the area. 

He managed to get the location of the supposed prison of the youkai from the old grandmother. She had pointed at the surrounding mountain range – Gojyo-san she said its name was, named so for the five peaks that the story claimed were the five fingers of Buddha. His stomach had sunk when he looked at the towering peak the woman pointed at. 

It was going to be one hell of a climb. 

He was sorely tempted to give it up. If the legend truly was as old as she said, he would be chasing in vain after something at best long dead, and at worst never anything more than a figment of someone's imagination. 

_But if you never try to find out, you'll just keep on wondering. Wouldn't you?_

Shit. 

Sometimes, life just plain sucks.

CONTINUED IN PART 2

***

NOTES:

1.Shoureijuu is Sanzo's gun, the youkai-killing Smith & Wesson ^_^. I know that in the anime one shot of the gun was enough to scatter a youkai into dust, but in the manga it just ripped into them. And for powerful enough or big enough youkai like the spider-lady in the early episode it did less damage. So I'm operating under the assumption that it had to hit vital part of the body to deal instant death, and it will deal damage more like an ordinary gun for powerful or huge youkai. 

2.If you're asking why the Maten-kyomon didn't come into play here, well, it takes time to recite, and in this case, Sanzo didn't have the leisure ^^;. Wait a bit, it'll get used ^_-. 

3.Oshou-sama is how Sanzo called his teacher, the former Genjo Sanzo. 

[C&C Me! ][1]

   [1]: mailto:dewinaga@yahoo.co.uk



	2. Binding Fate - Chapter 2

A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION

**A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION**

**By NAGA**

** **

_Disclaimer: This fanfic is based on Saiyuki by Minekura Kazuya. There is no profit to be made and no copyright infringement was intended. _

_ _

_Ratings: PG13 (I think ^^;, violence, no adult content, sorry folks ; )_

_Timeline: The story starts before Genjo Sanzo's first meeting with Son Gokuu_

_Spoiler: A tiny bit - mostly from the Shuen story line_

**BINDING FATE**

** **

PART 2

Sanzo leant against the boulder with a sigh, letting his travel sack drop to the ground. His shoulder ached where the sack had rubbed against it. His feet hurt. His back sent twinges of pain up his nerves, warning him against pushing healing muscles too far. 

He set aside his walking staff and uncapped the bamboo water container, dribbling precious water on chapped lips. This high up, the air was not just cold, it was also bone-dry. His body was crying for moisture and his lungs crying for easier air to breathe. The thin mountain air insidiously sapped the strength out of his body and the cold made it shiver continuously in a losing effort to keep warm.

Ten days, he thought tiredly. Still nothing yet. The peak loomed above him, seeming close enough to touch in the clear air, but in fact still a long journey away. The vegetation had dropped away as he climbed, trees replaced by sparse bushes, to be replaced by moss and lichen growing on stones. Animals had disappeared even faster, leaving only the occasional lizards and other small reptiles, and of course the birds wheeling high in the sky. But even the latter had turned scarce now, the only birds capable and willing to live this high the vast-winged predators that preferred the craggy heights. 

He had searched the mountain as he climbed, keeping his senses alert for any whiff of youki. He was still quite unsure whether the phantom voice he had heard came from the same youkai that had attacked him, or from someone else altogether. Lately as he thought about it, the second possibility seemed more likely - the phantom voice did not feel malevolent, even though it was eerie as hell. He did not believe in the whole powerful-youkai-trapped-for-centuries crap legend -- but _something was calling for him. And although the voice never resurfaced with as much strength as it did in his dreams, there was a kind of pull that drew him onward. Drew him to this mountain. _

So he climbed, risking limbs and life wandering along treacherous mountain paths, half-expecting to be ambushed by wild animals or worse at any moment. And was actually disappointed when no one-armed youkai jumped out of the bushes at him. It would have simplified a lot of things, and he always did prefer a more straight-forward approach. 

As each day yielded nothing, his search took him higher, higher, until here he was, in the middle of stony wasteland where nothing but rocks existed. The gravel-strewn path he had followed up was a small, narrow path carved into the mountain side that must be a natural channel for melting snow during spring time. The footing had become more treacherous the higher up he went, and he seriously considered turning back and searching the lower grounds. 

He had grown to hate the cold, and he was tired of waking up with aches from unforgiving hard ground. The latter normally would not bother him, but bruised flesh and half-healed wounds were not so impervious against unyielding rock. 

He wanted off this mountain. He wanted, if not soft bed, then at least grassy soil to lay his body down on. He wanted air that did not parched his throat going down. And he wanted decent food that would yield to his teeth and burst into flavor in his mouth, instead of travel biscuits that were as hard as his walking stick and taste about as good.

Just one more day, he promised himself, glancing at the western sky and the falling globe of yellow sun. The sky will fall dark in another two hours or so. If there was still nothing to be found, then he would turn back. And cussed the old woman out for sending him on this wild goose chase. 

He re-tied his travel sack across his chest and leant on his walking stick. The stones underneath crunched and shifted alarmingly. He had to concentrate so hard on his footing that he did not see the cave until it was literally on top of him. 

Sanzo halted, gazing up the mountain side. The path he was following took a steep turn here, meandering up the stone surface and passing beside a natural plateau in front of the cave, before continuing in a steep climb almost straight up the mountain side.

End of the road. There was no way a human could climb that kind of slope. By this point, he was almost relieved. He took a cursory glance at the cave, more out of habit than real expectation to find anything. Took a second glance at the unusual stone formations that grew down from the top of the small cave to the floor. They took the shape of vertical bars that were more than three times as thick as his wrist. The roughness of the growth seemed to indicate a natural origin and he might have left it at that, when his eyes caught sight of something yellow against grey stone. 

His gaze fixed on it, and his heart did a sudden back-flip as he recognized it. It was so incongruous that he stared at itfor a long while before he could confirm what it was. 

A fuda.

"What the…" Sanzo breathed. 

He took a few steps closer. There were more, he found. Patches of yellow contrasting against the stone, looking like fungus growth until he looked at them more closely.

The wind blew across the mountain side, rasping on gravel and whirling small particles of dust into the air. 

_......_

Sanzo shivered. Turned around, trying vainly to deny the origin of the call. 

_.…..…..._

He slowly faced the cave. Squinted, trying to see into the darkness. But the light was failing and the shadow inside the cave was far too dark. 

Was there really something in there?

_...here..._

He gritted his teeth. Oh, hell. Why not? He had climbed all the way here, after all. 

He dropped his pack and his stick, wanting his hands free for whatever might happen next. Climbed the steep incline to the cave, and took long strides towards the stone bar, ignoring the clenching of his stomach. 

He could now make out the markings of the fuda sealed to the bars. The ancient words crawled incomprehensibly across the yellowish paper. He recognized none of them, but this close their power raised goose flesh all over his skin. Strong. Damn strong seal. Each one of those would be at least ten times as powerful than the '_Curse of Araya', the most powerful of its kind the order have in existence. They were slapped haphazardly all over the bars and on what little of the cave walls he could see. _

And finally, a faint whiff of youki tickled his senses. But it was so weak, muted somehow, that he would have missed it had he not been specifically looking for it. 

A few more steps and he was almost flush against the bars. The cave was not that deep after all, less than ten meters and half again as wide. Only the shadows had made it impenetrable. 

And he could see... there. Against the far wall. What had only been a darker shade of black before. 

He saw...

...a boy.

He shook his head, and...

_...and the boy looked up..._

_...gazed at him with brilliant inhuman golden eyes..._

Even as he stared in disbelief, that voice that was not a voice, the voice that he had followed all the way here despite all logic and rationals sighed once again....

_...you're here...finally..._

***

Those eyes were staring back at him. Wide, wide pools of molten gold set in a dirty and scuffed face of a boy who was not a boy. The hair was long and as scruffy as a wild animal's fur, and the clothes were encrusted with dust and threadbare in places. A glint of gold on the forehead drew Sanzo's attention. A circlet, one that he belatedly recognized as a youkai limiter. So that was why he nearly missed the youki completely. 

There were other restraints on him. Manacles circled his wrists and ankles, another one on his throat, connected by thick chains to a large ball of what looked like iron. The chains reeked of binding spells, the aura another layer among the many that smothered this small cave.

And the boy smells of... not the usual sour smell of dry sweat an unwashed body gave off, but of dry dust and cold stone walls. It was as if he had absorbed the smell of the cave walls that made up the cell, as if he had stayed here long enough to...

Sanzo pulled his racing thoughts back with difficulty. The boy was still staring fixedly at him. The gaze was so completely focused on him, it was starting to feel unnerving. He had not blinked once. 

He had to say something. After all, there was a reason he dragged himself across the forest and all the way up this gods-forsaken mountain. Memory came back of the persistent callings - the repetitive, unceasing, thrice-damned _annoying voice that would not let him do anything other than follow it here..._

And with that, his temper flared up. 

"Oy." 

The golden eyes blinked. Once. Twice. 

He repeated more forcefully, building up to a major explosion. "Oy!"

"...eh...?"

_That's it? He scowled in irritation. That was pathetic. Was this really the powerful youkai demon the old crone was talking about?_

"...Are you the one who's been calling me?"

"...eh?"

Sanzo could hear his teeth grinding together. _One more chance. If he says 'eh' one more time, I'll shoot him. _

"I said - were you the one who called me?" 

The boy's mouth worked, but no sound came out. 

He's going to say that damn word again, Sanzo thought morbidly_. Just shoot me now. What is he, a retard? Just his luck, all the way here and he got himself a __senile lunatic who could not even..._

"...I... I didn't... call you..."

Sanzo cocked his head, quickly revising his opinion. That had been articulate, even if the voice had sounded rusty, as if it was unaccustomed to talking. And the intonation was strange.

"No...?"

The boy - youkai, he reminded himself irritably, whoever heard of humans with golden eyes? - shook his head. Maybe the shock of seeing someone else had finally worn off, but all of a sudden he looked...forlorn. As if the he was just now beginning to understand that the person standing in front of him had come looking for someone, and that someone was not him.

Forlorn, and... lonely. Golden eyes or no, he _looked human. A rather exceptionally scruffy example of it, but human. And with very human emotions now flowing across what had become a startlingly expressive face. _

"_Ano...who are you?"_

Sanzo stared at him. The youkai-boy sounded sincerely confused. He certainly looked confused. Either that, or he was a very good actor. And if he did not call him...

The phantom voice chose that moment to re-appear, sighing its call across his heart. 

_...here..._

And his temper snapped. 

"Don't lie to me!" The youkai-boy shrank away from him, eyes widening to the size of small saucers. "Do you have any idea how noisy you are? How **annoying it is?" **

He was about to launch into a tirade almost a month in the making when his gaze locked with those huge golden eyes, and the strangest thing happened. 

He could see inside him - this strange youkai who looked and felt more human than even a human. Those eyes had no barriers, no walls that people naturally built up over the years. They were as clear and honest as a babe's, and he could see so clearly... 

...confusion, shock, fear...

....and eagerness, a yearning, and something too small and unformed to even be called hope...

His breath caught. 

…all because for perhaps more years than he could remember, someone actually came to this dreary mountain top, someone he could talk to and listen to, someone who could understand his words...

...someone who could, no matter how short a time it would be, be with him and help him take away some of the loneliness he must had felt, trapped here all alone where not even birds would ventured so high...

He did not want to know this. This strange flash of understanding, the loneliness that was almost crushing in its weight but was frighteningly familiar. It called to his own with the feel of intimacy that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

He opened his mouth to say what, he could not have said. Something, anything to break this unwanted connection. And stopped, remembering. 

The voice that was not a voice…

_...his teacher, the true Genjo Sanzo, standing by the tree, the autumn foliage falling like red rain around him, smiling..._

_ _

_..."because you kept on calling me, Koryu...that's why…_

_ _

_...maybe one day, you will hear it, too... that voice that was not a voice at all..."_

_Oshou-sama..._

Sanzo closed his eyes. _Teacher, was this what you had meant? What is this? I didn't understand it then. I still don't. He looked back at the boy and felt his chest tightening and twisting in what was even worse than fear. _

_What if I'm wrong? What if this wasn't it? How could it be?_

His teacher's smile, serene and with that gentle hint of irreverent humor.

_And what if it is, Koryu?_

Twisting and churning. It was getting harder to breathe. The boy was still looking at him, that rapt gaze fixed on him like a lifeline. Who was the one holding the lifeline, he wondered.

He could turn back now. Just walk back down the path and never looked back. Forget all about this. After all, there must be a good reason why this youkai-boy was sealed up at the top of a mountain, with spells made to last until the end of the world if necessary. A grievous crime, the old crone had said. Committed against heaven itself, and punished for it. The punishment must had fit the crime. 

He had no obligations here. It had nothing at all to do with him.

He should leave. 

Except that he was sure the boy's golden eyes would be following him down the trail, would keep on watching until he disappeared into the distance. And he would watch for hours, for days, or even for weeks - for what was time in this timeless prison made by the gods? 

And until he, Genjo Sanzo, had lived his life and turned to dust, this youkai sealed forever in a boy's body would still be here. Still watching the road that trailed up the mountain and remembering the human that no longer existed. And that loneliness that was the prison for the heart and mind would stretch on into the centuries. 

_Oh, gods... I must be out of my mind._

He took one step closer to the bars. A corner of his mind was yammering frantically at him - _what in the name of nine hells are you thinking? You're making a huge mistake, stop, stop -_

Except that he was not thinking. Not really. His body was moving of its own volition. And his heart...

He saw his own hand moved up, moved past the bars, the powerful fuda not affecting his human body. Saw the hand stretched to its length and stopped, palm turned up - heard his own lips moving to form the words - 

"I can't stand you, your calls."

_...here..._

"So...come."

_ _

_...find me..._

"I'll take you with me."

And the luminous eyes were staring at him - fear, disbelief, suspicion... but that tiny spark of something that was not yet hope bloomed in their depth... and it rose like a tide to sweep everything away... 

The boy was moving, shuffling on his knees, the chains scraping and rattling on the uneven floor. Closer, on palms and knees in front of the offered palm, the small upturned face lit up by the setting sun. He stopped. 

And raised one bound hand, slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid Sanzo was a mirage that would disappear when touched - 

...their fingers touched, the long slender human fingers and the sharp-clawed youkai's...

...the fuda flashed a muted gold, yellowed papers dissolving into nothingness... 

...and the chain that shackled the boy's wrist crumbled to dust along with the rest,dissipating into the wind without a sound...

_...found you at last.._

That voice sighed one last time and it called him by name, his name yet not his -strange yet familiar - and fell silent with a sense of finality. 

He stood there with the setting sun shining behind him and the boy kneeling in front of him, their hands linked together.

And far away from the mortal world, the wheel of fate spun in its eternal cycle - and two threads long separated meet once again to be woven into one.

***

The moment the binding spells had broken, Sanzo had snatched his hand away. The youkai boy made a sound, fingers reaching for his retreating hand, eyes mutely beseeching.

Sanzo stood there, trying to understand what had happened, still reeling from what he had just done. The spells… he had not even thought of them, had not even considered that they might stop him from what he was trying to do. 

And they should have. It did not make sense that they had just… dissolved like that. What kind of idiot made binding spells this powerful that would just up and disappear the moment someone touched it?

Sanzo took a shuddering breath. Nothing made sense. The phantom voice's final call disturbed him greatly - because at that moment there was a flash of feeling, of almost understanding some mystery just out of reach. A mystery that he had not realized existed, and one that his mind shied away from contemplating. 

The youkai boy stared at him imploringly from between the stone bars, face and body pressed as hard against the barrier as he could manage.

One thing that he knew, the mystery was linked to this caged boy in front of him. 

_Well, then…_

He cocked his head, spoke in his most bored tone. "Oy. Are you going to stay there forever?"

"Eh?" 

The obiqutous 'eh' again. Sanzo gritted his teeth. "Even if you're one hell of a sorry-looking youkai, a simple stone bar shouldn't be able to stop you. Unless you want to stay there."

The boy stared at him, eyes widening in astonishment. 

"Fine!" Sanzo turned abruptly and started walking away. "Whatever. I'm not staying in this miserable place. Do anything you like."

"…wait!"

Sanzo glanced back. "Hurry up."

He watched through his eyelashes as the boy tentatively gripped a bar in each hand. His fingers could not quite circle the thick bars all the way around. Saw him strained against them experimentally. Dust and bits of stones flaked down from where the bars grew down from the cave ceiling.

The boy stopped, a strange look on his face. Released one hand from the bar and balled it into a fist. 

He smashed the fist on the stone bar. 

A deep cracking sound and the stone bar shattered into thousand shards, pieces of it spattering the ground near Sanzo's feet. 

Another fist. A second bar smashed apart. Then the boy was standing, gazing at him past the gap in the prison that had confined him for who knew how long. 

And took one step across the threshold. 

Sanzo knew exactly when the realization of his freedom hit him. The head turned up, face chasing after the rays of setting sun that fell from above. And it kept tilting back, back, until he was looking up at the clear blue sky of autumn. Hands that had hung forgotten lifted to the side, spreading, stretching. And he spun, spinning on his feet, once, twice - and a clear sound, high and strong, burst out of him. Laughter, full with wild, unbridled joy.

Sanzo watched in fascination, drawn in despite himself. There was just something so pure about this undiluted joy - it slipped past his defenses and touched him to the quick. He started when the boy swung his eyes back to him. The small, dusty face was filled with a grin so huge it seemed liable to split his whole face in two. The boy gave a whoop, and broke into a run, leaping and bounding on the treacherous ground as if it was flat pavement, speeding past Sanzo without a glance.

Sanzo stared at the diminishing back, moving at a remarkable clip. Obviously the imprisonment had not impaired any reflexes or stamina. He was astonished to find himself feeling a pang of loss, an irrational and totally unacceptable feeling that was swiftly and ruthlessly squashed. Attributed it to the loss of a possible answer to the mystery. 

_But... just as well. _

One did not seal an ordinary youkai with this kind of care. Powerful beings had been involved, and when they realized their precious cell had been breached and the prisoner gone, they would be sure to come looking for some answers. Sanzo was not afraid of troubles, but neither was he suicidal. It was just as well that he withdrew himself from this mess as early as possible. 

He retrieved his belongings from where he had left it down the path, and trudged down the track at a distinctly slower pace than the youkai boy. The sun was falling fast, and he cursed long and feelingly at the prospect of spending another freezing night bedding on hard, rocky surface. 

The whole unfruitful side-track did not bear thinking about. Now that it had become painfully obvious the youkai who had attacked him was someone else, the thought of re-searching the mountain range and forest for the correct youkai made him feel vaguely ill. And the thought that he had whipped his ass climbing this gods-damned mountain for nothing made him downright homicidal. Sure, the annoying voice had stopped. But right now he was bone tired and cranky and the fruit of his fucking labor, whatever it was, had just ran off without a word of thanks. 

_I want to kill someone. He thought grimly. __I really, really want to kill someone. If this is the gods' idea of a joke, I hope someone is choking on it up there. _

And maybe the gods answered him or decided to punish him for his blasphemous thoughts, because right then, something thumped on the boulder beside him. He spun around in shock, only to come face to face with bright, golden eyes. 

The youkai boy. 

Before Sanzo could register the sudden arrival, the boy had bounded down beside him and snagged one sleeve with both hands, beaming up at him so hard his eyes were mere slits of gold. 

"What are you doing?!" Sanzo tried vainly to pull his sleeve away, and almost succeeded in tearing holes in his robe. The boy had sharp nails, and they were sunk well and deep into the weavings. 

"Go. Let's… go," the boy declared happily. 

Sanzo stared. "What makes you think you're coming with me?!" He tried once again to pry himself off, with as little success. "_Temee…!! I have nothing to do with you. I don't **want anything to do with you. Go away. Do whatever you do, I don't care, as long as…Are you **__listening to me?"_

  
A happy grin was his answer. 

Helplessly. "You…"

Another pull on the sleeve. "_Iku…yo."_

Sanzo's mouth opened, closed. Tried again. "Do you understand what I'm saying or not?"

The face that turned to him was solemn, earnest. "Go… together. I'll go… with you."

"You are _not… oh hell, I give up." He glumly resumed walking, one youkai boy clinging to his sleeve. "__Sukinishiro-yo!"_

The steps beside him faltered suddenly. Royally pissed off, Sanzo twisted around to give the vacillating piece of baggage a well-deserved tounge-lashing. 

The boy was staring up the incline at the cave. The sun was failing now, and the shadows were smothering it, enveloping the mountain-side. The mobile face was somber, the eyes darkening with too many emotions to count. 

Sanzo stilled his tongue. A rare mood overtook him and he silently allowed the boy to lay whatever ghosts he had to rest, put down the final pieces of intangible chains binding him. He stood there waiting patiently until the boy was ready. 

Finally, the boy turned towards him, the bright smile back on his face again. "Let's go."

Sanzo hmmphed, starting back down the trail. 

"One thing…"

"Eh?"

"If you tear my robe, I'll take it out of your hide."

***

Sanzo poked the camp fire with a stick, sending sparks and embers into the air. The fire burned bigger, warming the chilly night air. 

He had not gotten as far down the mountain as he had hoped. The sun had set about an hour ago and he had finally given up and sought shelter for the night. The bluff he had found gave shelter and protection from the wind. 

The night out there was quiet. Whatever wild life existed this high up had curled back up into their nests, or at least had had the decency to be quiet while they went about their business. 

In here… 

Sanzo gave a low snarl in his throat as the continuous sound of gravel scraping on ground began to grate on raw nerves. 

"Will you stop that?" He demanded through clenched teeth. 

The sound paused. 

"Nan-da?"

Sanzo closed his eyes and prayed for patience. "Fidgeting. If you're restless, get out. _I'm certainly not keeping you."_

"…oh."

Silence. A second passed. Two seconds. 

A sniffing sound closer by. 

Sanzo cursed soundly and snatched his travel sack away. "And stop pawing my stuff. What are trying to do?"

Golden eyes gazed back at him, mournful. The youkai boy sat on his heels, looking rather like a lost, forlorn kid in his sorry condition. But when he spoke next, his voice was hopeful. 

"…food?"

"…Not for you!" But the thought of food woke his stomach up and he realized that he had not eaten since early this morning. Sanzo took out the travel biscuits, pointedly turning his back on the boy. He bit into the hard biscuit, listlessly chewing the tasteless thing. He wished he was back in the forest, where there were at least some fruits to be found, and game animals he could trap. He missed the taste of meat. As it was, there was only this thing, and barely enough at that to last all the way down the mountain. He would have to ration himself if he did not want to starve during the last leg of the journey.

A small whimper. More scraping sound as the boy moved nearer. 

Sanzo ignored him. The boy survived years cooped up in the cave without food and water. No reason why he needed food now. 

A growling sound interrupted his meal. He slowly turned his head to stare at the boy, who ducked his head, looking quite embarrassed, but with eyes still latched on to the half-eaten ration in his hand. 

_I'm going to regret this. _

The boy started as a biscuit was thrown at him, hands nimbly catching it before it fell to the ground. A wide grin split his face. 

"Just one," Sanzo told him flatly. "Don't think this is going to be a habit."

But the boy was already busy munching the meal, demolishing it at an astonishing speed. As Sanzo watched the biscuit disappear with something like horrified fascination, the boy choked, started coughing and hacking. 

"Idiot…" Sanzo shoved the water container at him and yelped when the boy upended it into his mouth. "_Kisama! Don't finish it, you…!" He snatched the thing back, stared aghast at the decidedly empty container._

"_Kono… BAKA!!" The container went flying, whacking the boy soundly on the head. _

"_Itte!"_

"Hurt does it? I'm going to do more than just hurt you - I'm going to kill you! You water-guzzling, thoughtless, brainless, prehistoric piece of…!!!"

A howl pierced the night, like that of a wolf, but with a chilling _otherness behind it that suggested something else. Sanzo's skin crawled with the sound of it, and he stopped, trying to pin-point the location. Somewhere to the north, down near the edge where the forest met the mountain range. A couple of howls and yips followed, less distinct, but definitely wolfish in origin. _

Sanzo listened intently as the cliffs bounced eerie echoes, but there was nothing more from the first one. That one… he had a hunch what it was. 

"Youkai."

He turned, surprised. The boy gazed up at him solemnly, hand still rubbing his head where the container had hit him. "What did you say?"

"That was… not wolf. Youkai." The boy tilted his head. "Sound is… different."  
  


"Hngh." Sanzo snorted, sitting back down. There was nothing he could do now. Even if it was the same youkai who had attacked him, he was too far away. But at least he now knew the direction to go next. "Trust a youkai to know one."

The boy looked at him questioningly. 

"Never mind," Sanzo snapped irritably. 

Relative silence as the boy finished the remains of his biscuit. 

"Oy."

"…mmm?"

"You haven't told me why you're imprisoned up there."

All of a sudden the boy looked crestfallen. The biscuit hung forgotten in his hands. "I… I don't know."

"Aa~h?!"

"It's true." 

"…explain."

The boy struggled visibly, brows scrunching up as he fought to comply. When the words came, it was halting and uncertain, but far more articulate than he had been until now. 

"I don't remember, anything about… the past. I did something…horrible, I think. That's why I'm… shut in there. But I don't remember…". Here he looked at Sanzo beseechingly, as if asking for understanding, or forgiveness. 

Sanzo narrowed his eyes, trying to see if the boy was lying to him. But the cursed thing was, every instincts he had were telling him the other was telling the truth. 

"Then… your name?"

The boy shook his head, looking so dejected Sanzo almost pitied him. 

"… go to sleep."

Sanzo arranged himself to his liking and turned away from the fire, staring out into the night. _No name. Doesn't remember a thing. I suppose asking him about the voice will be useless too. He heard slight rustling behind him as the boy settled down. _

"_Ne…"_

"What?" He muttered impatiently. 

"…what's your name?"

"None of your business."

"…"

"…"

"…Genjo.. Sanzo."

He heard the boy murmuring the name, repeating it several times. "Genjo Sanzo… Genjo… Sanzo… Sanzo…"

"_Urusee-na! Go to sleep."_

The voice quieted, but he could still hear faint murmuring. Irritated, he pulled one sleeved hand over his ear. _First chance I get, I'm dumping him. Still have to go after that youkai, and better to get this one out of the way. Just because I let him out doesn't mean he's my responsibility._

Decision made, he resolutely tried to get some rest. But somehow, his dreams that night were filled with memory of desolate golden eyes, and the sound of a familiar voice calling a name that was not his name. 

***

_He hurt. The stump where his right arm used to be bled blackened blood and puss, and it hurt to move. It hurt to hunt and if the wolf pack had not shared a portion of their food with him, he probably would have died on those early few days of his injury. The wild pack recognized him as one of their own, sensed the half-buried lupine origin in the strange two-legged thing that had come within their territory. Did not hurt that he often shared his own hunts with them, and that they had developed a liking for the human flesh he gave them._

_ _

_That could prove to be useful. In his weakened condition, he might need their help if he was to go after the yellow-haired monk._

_ _

_And go after him he would._

_ _

_The youkai growled low in his throat, his remaining fist clenching and unclenching by his side. Alerted by the sound, a few of the wolves curled around him raised their heads to regard him with their unblinking amber eyes. _

_ _

_He smiled at them, thinking of how they hunted, how they tear their prey to pieces at the end of the hunt. But no, maybe he would stop them this time. It should not end so quickly. This time, he wanted more than just blood and death. _

_ _

_This time, he wanted revenge. _

***

Notes:

1.Japanese translations:

·Oshou-sama = teacher - how Sanzou called his teacher

·Fuda = the paper with mantra written on it, the kind that Shuen used

·Sukinishiro-yo = do whatever you like

·Temee = you (roughly spoken)

·Iku-yo = let's go

·Nan-da = what

·Kono baka = this idiot

·Itte = hurt

2.'Koryu' is Sanzo's old name, kanji roughly translates to 'river' + 'flow'

3.I know, I know, I took some liberties with Sanzo's conversation with Gokuu ^_^;. The original one didn't seem to work that well, so I added some in, but I didn't change the gist. 

[C&C Me! ][1]

   [1]: mailto:dewinaga@yahoo.co.uk



	3. Binding Fate - Chapter 3

A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION

A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION By NAGA _Disclaimer: This fanfic is based on Saiyuki Minekura Kazuya. There is no profit to be made and no copyright infringement was intended.  __ __Ratings: PG13 (I think ^^;, violence, no adult content, sorry folks ; ) __Timeline: The story starts before Genjo Sanzo's first meeting with Son Gokuu __Spoiler: A tiny bit – mostly from the Shuen story line _

BINDING FATE 

The pond was not a very big one. Two of the various river tributaries that criss-crossed the forest had combined to feed water into the natural depression in the ground and formed this glade. The water was fresh enough to drink, and the surrounding trees cast cooling shades around the area. 

Sanzo sipped water from cupped palms, enjoying the chill going down his throat. It was good to be back in the forest, where water was abundant and game animals were plenty. He had had to ration both during the last leg of the journey down the mountain, and he despised the constant hunger and thirst. 

Of course, he would not have run out of provisions if not because of…

Branches rained down around him and one struck him square on the head. He exploded into an oath and glared daggers up at the trees. 

Straight at a couple of brown-furred monkeys and one youkai-boy hanging precariously off a branch too thin to support his weight. 

"_Temee-…!" He growled at the boy perched high above. "What in the hell are you doing?!"  
  
_

The boy flipped himself upside down, now hanging with hooked knees, and grinned a wild, ear-splitting, shit-eating grin. 

"Sanzo, this is FUN!!"

_Fun. A hundred expletives crowded the tip of his tongue, but he managed to swallow most of them, settling merely for snarling the kind of dubious parentage that had produced this kind of boy. The insulted party cocked his head at him, hair falling in a messy tangle around his face. _

"_Ne, Sanzo. Y'know my parents?"_

"Come down here, _bakayarou!" Sanzou roared. _

"But Sanzo… there're fruits here!" One small hand dug into the filthy vest and came out waving a fistful of round, green stuff. One fell down, missing Sanzo's head by inches. 

Sanzo looked down at the thing. A tiny pear. Still too green to be anything but sour. 

"You ate those? Idiot! You're going to make yourself sick."

The boy wilted, looking somewhat bashful. "_Datte… I'm hungry. Taste okay. Want some? I saved some for you." He looked extremely proud of that. _

Sanzo messaged his temple which was starting to throb. "Stupid monkey boy…"

"_Saru…?" The boy looked at him blankly. "Why'd you call me that?"_

"Why? Because you're acting like one!" Sanzo snapped. "Oh, never mind." He stood up from his crouch. 

"Sanzo, wait for me." The boy swung himself up the thin branch, as nimble as the chattering monkeys that clambered all around him. But then he stopped. Going back for the main trunk would land him further away from Sanzo, who was already turning to leave. But close by, the branches intertwined with those of another tree, one closer to Sanzo. 

He just needed to get past the gap. 

Sanzo saw him eyeing the distance between the branches, and saw exactly when he decided to take the shorter route. 

"Idiot," he yelled frantically, "Don't you even think to…!"

"Eh?" Wide eyes peered down at him. The boy froze mid way – right in the middle of the thinnest branch. 

**Crack!**

A startled yelp and one small body tumbled head-first into the pond. An amazing quantity of water sprayed high and wide in all directions, drenching one side of the pond and one monk who had the misfortune to stand too close to the shore.

"…"

Sanzo wiped the water off his face, stopping to stare at the dripping sleeve. A few more broken branches pattered the pond surface, accompanied by excited screeching from the monkeys who were no doubt having the time of their lives. 

Another splash and the youkai boy broke the surface, coughing and spitting, trailing weeds from his hair. One golden eye peeked out from behind sopping bangs. 

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. 

"…sorry." Chastened voice. 

Sanzo closed his eyes, willing himself to count to ten. _I have a gun in my robe. It will take just one bullet. I think I'm entitled. No – I damn well know I'm entitled. What am I, a fucking nanny?_

"…Sanzo…? Ne…"

Counting did not help. Sanzo turned abruptly and stride off into the forest trail. He heard more splashing behind him. "Ne… I'm sorry already…" 

"Go drown yourself!" He threw back from gritted teeth. His wet robe clung unpleasantly to his body. Water dribbled down to his tabi, drawing wet sucking sounds as they slapped against his straw sandals. 

It was going to be a damn long day. 

***

The evening sun beat down on the open trail. This particular path led straight to the village and had been recently cleared. It was by far easier to walk on than a wild forest trail, but the draw back was the baking heat, the road unprotected by the leafy branches.

Sanzo walked on stubbornly in the punishing heat, his still damp robe a heavy weight draped across his left arm. He had taken it off a while back, fed up with the smothering heat of evaporating moisture and the way the sodden material tangled his limbs. 

Behind him he could hear another pair of footsteps, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. The lazy drone of cicadas were punctuated now and then by artless exclamations. The sound of footsteps would taper off as the boy scampered off to examine whatever it was that had caught his attention. But soon it would return. It always returned. 

Sanzo could not fathom why.

He used to figure that once they came into the forest, the boy would lose whatever fool notion he had had that made him tag along behind Sanzo like some over-grown puppy. With the whole wide world re-opened to him, he was sure the lure of other living things and new sensations would draw the boy away. He thought he would simply wake up one morning and found him already gone. Or one day, he would wander off in one of his expeditions and simply never bother to return. 

That would have been just fine with him. 

But always, he would turn around and there he was, the silly grin on his face and looking as if he had never left. 

It was starting to make him feel more than just uncomfortable.

"Sanzo, ne- "

"Shut up." 

The footsteps quickened. Brown hair bobbed up beside him, half hopeful eyes slanted up. 

"Is there food? I'm hungry…"

_I knew I should never have fed him. Gods help me with his appetite – I should be lucky he didn't view **me** as food. "You've eaten all my food." **That** still rankled. He would not have had to half starve himself to death if not for this extra mouth. His voice rose. "If you're so hungry, go eat barks! Plenty of those around."_

A slight pout. "You didn'thafta yell at me."

_Gods give me patience because I sure don't have any left._ "Well then, go away!" Sanzo glared down at the brown-topped head that barely reached the middle of his chest. "Why do you keep following me anyway? If you think I'm feeding you, you'd better think again!"

The boy looked crestfallen, but when raised his eyes again, that stupid wide smile was back on his face. 

"'S okay. I'll find food. For us both."

Sanzo stared at him, flabbergasted. _All right. If he can't take a hint… _He spoke each words carefully. "I don't want food. I don't want **you**. Stop following me around!"

The smile faltered. The boy lowered his eyes and turned. Took a few steps away. Sanzo began to hope that the harsh words had pierced through. 

"I'll go find food." 

"You…!" 

A flash of quick, expansive smile, then the face turned away as the boy bounced into the woods, hair-tail swaying like a real monkey tail. Sanzo was left staring helplessly after. 

"…Whatever!"

He tramped down the path with fresh energy born from sheer exasperation. If he made good time, he could reach the village in another day. He could replenish his provisions there, before he continuing on his journey. Roots and mushrooms may be better than nothing, but he longed fiercely for a more solid fare. 

No doubt, the youkai boy would be back soon. He always seemed to be able to find his way back to him, no matter how far Sanzo had gone. 

His step wavered as he realized, to his horror,that he was starting to _expect_ to see him tailing behind. Expect to see that childish face that was so stupidly wide-open to the world turning to him wherever he went like a flower following the sun.

And that thought was worse than anything else. That made his chest locked up with the same feeling that had twisted inside him when he first gazed on the boy who had called him across hundreds of miles. 

_What is worse than fear?_

Fingers gripped his walking stick until blood deserted them and left them white as bones – and Sanzo slammed the door to that thought as firmly as he could. 

For that boy that he had been had seen where that path had led. And he was not sure if he could ever survive something like that again, not without shattering into irrecoverable pieces. 

***

They reached the village late in the evening of the following day. Sanzo had brusquely told the youkai boy to stay outside. Considering the spate of youkai-related incidents the village had had lately, it was wiser not to bring trouble into their midst. And despite the boy's resemblance to a human, the golden eyes were enough to give away his origin. 

The moment he had walked past the gate, he knew something was wrong. A crowd filled up the main square and the buzz of conversations was subdued, with an ominous undertone. 

A wailing rose from somewhere in the middle and the crowd shifted nervously, the murmurings rising in pitch. 

Sanzo tapped a young man in the shoulder. "What's wrong?" The man blinked at him, taking in the outsider. "You're… oh, the monk. You didn't know?"

Sanzo tamped down on his impatience. "I've been gone for weeks. What is it?" He tried to see past the gathering, but the crowd was too thick. 

The man hunched down. "The youkai attacks… you know about them right? Well, we've lost eight more men and women in the past ten days."

A sickening feeling clenched Sanzo's stomach. "How?" He asked sharply. "Did they go off alone into the woods…"

"No, no, that's just it." The man's worried face glanced around him, at all his grim-faced villagers. "It's like he's gone crazy. Yung and the guys went to cut firewood five days ago, four of them in a group. We never would've thought… Even when the search party found them, it's still so hard to believe." Nervous eyes turned back to Sanzo. "He'd never attacked groups before, just a single guy or girl – you know, those easy to get. But Shulan was with her husband, and the two Tang brothers had gone off fishing together."

Sanzo frowned and demanded, "How?"

"We don't know. But the bodies were ripped apart. Like animals did them." The man looked away. "Maybe he got others with him."

Sanzo felt the unpleasant sting of conscience. After all, it was not difficult to see one possible reason for the sudden increase in hostility. He had not considered that the youkai could vent its wrath on the villagers instead. 

The crowd parted somewhat and Sanzo could finally see past. An old woman was bent double over a pair of made-shift stretchers, eerie wailing still rising from her wrinkled mouth. A rough cloth was thrown over each stretcher, its whole area stiff and stained rust brown. 

Sanzo steeled himself for the gut-wrenching unpleasantness ahead and pushed forward for the grieving mother and the youkai's newest victims. 

***

_The wolf pack was playing in front of their lair. Their stomach was full and they were in a mood to be indulgent. A few of the younger ones rolled and nipped at each other, ignoring him as he sat beside them on top of the large boulder, basking in the sun. _

_ _

There was still some dried blood under his fingernails. He chewed on the nails absently, tongue flicking out to lick away the taste of copper. Thin, the taste of it was. Watery and as weak as the humans that he had ripped apart so easily.

_ _

_It was dissatisfying. He craved for something stronger, something that would made his blood boil, something potent that would hit his body and mind with the potency of the finest extract of poppy seed, the most excellent of aphrodisiac. _

_ _

_Slaughtering the weak had lost its excitement after that day when he had lost his right hand. After the pain had lessened enough to allow him to think, he had looked back and realized something. _

_ _

_As strong the pleasure that he derived from his usual hunts, it paled in comparison to the fierce delight when he danced the razor edge of life and death with that young monk with the sun-gold hair and face as beautiful as a woman. In all his long lifespan, never had he felt more **alive** than at that instant – the few minutes that had stretched to infinity and yet had ended all too soon. _

_ _

_Since then, he had searched for that elusive feeling through all his hunts. Even when he knew that he would not find it among these weak, feeble-minded humans. But that was all right. Because the trail of bodies that he left behind would lure in his real prey. _

_ _

_He smiled at that. Felt the beginning of a stirring in his body that was almost like lust. _

_ _

_He jumped off the boulder. The wolves stopped their frolicking and turned as one to him, turning in an instant from the playful creatures to natural born killers that they were. _

_ _

_He smiled at them and walked down the path that would cross the forest and lead towards the puny human settlement. He heard the faintest sound of padded paws falling on leafy loam as the wolf pack followed him. _

_ _

_He would go to the outskirt of the village today, as he did every single day since he had regained use of his right arm. If fate was smiling, he would probably catch one or two foolish humans venturing out in the forest. And if he did… well then, at the very end of it he would leave his message on their bodies, just as he had every single one of those he had caught the past few weeks. Just so they all knew who it was that he was really looking for. _

_ _

And if the cowards held true to form, he might just find his prize handed over to him one of these days.

***

When the sun shone red and sullen in the evening sky, Sanzo found himself on the road again, this time walking away from the village. He had stayed merely long enough to buy some necessities before setting off again. It was not likely that he would be welcomed back in the village any time near in the future. The bunch of pissed off humans he left behind him could barely remain civil enough to let him walk out of their place. 

Not that they did not have ample reason to be furious.

The old woman had screamed at him over the dead bodies of her children – wrinkled face twisted like a gruesome mask, spittle flying from her lips as she spat epithets at him for drawing the wrath of the monster on her sons. They had had to restrain her from attacking him. In the confusion, the shroud had fallen from the corpses and he had seen the torn bodies, the missing limbs. And above the wide glazed eyes that still showed the horror of their last moments, he had seen the mark the youkai had left, a personal message for him.

A hole in the forehead – a tiny, red dot where a claw had punctured through skin and skull and into the brain. A mockery of the holy chakra on his own forehead. 

He had felt ill – and then, it was eclipsed by a burning fury that made him shook in its intensity. Fury… and a very unwelcomed feeling of guilt. He did not need to be told to leave; he could not have stayed another hour if he tried. 

The youkai boy followed him silently, quiet for once. Maybe he had sensed his mood and had wisely chosen not to disturb it. Now and again, he glimpsed a flash of gold as round eyes peeked up at him from under brown bangs. He ignored him, too distracted by the inner voices that refused to be silenced. 

Guilt was not a feeling that he was new to – the gods knew he had lived with it for the longest time. He had just gotten very good at ignoring it, at crowding it to the back of his mind and slamming a good, solid door on it. One among many things classified as not to be dwelled on, not to be disturbed upon pain of death. 

He would like to think that nowadays very few things could still make him feel this misery. Since he was beholden to none, then he was responsible for nothing. He cared nothing about others' expectations and so nothing was expected of him. No ties, no bindings – just passing through the mortal world like a ghost of a wind. 

But then of course something like this would happen, and he would get reminded of just how far away he still was from the goal that he had set himself to. And the very fact that his search for Komyou Sanzou's murderer tied him to this world by a bond far stronger than any others that he had struggled away from. There were, indeed, very few things stronger than the desire to avenge a loved one's death. 

His chest hurt. He hated feeling guilty, hated it with a passion. 

A rustling from the side bushes startled him out of his thoughts. A sudden shrill squawking nearly made him reach for his gun. White feathers flew up in a clump, then the youkai boy hopped out of the bushes, both hands holding a plump ptarmigan to his chest in a death grip. He grinned up at Sanzo, a few feathers and leaves stuck in his hair, and said, "Dinner."

Sanzo stared at him, at the bird still fluttering weakly in the kid's hands. Closed his mouth and tramped off ahead. 

He heard the boy shouting his name, the running patter of his footsteps, following him. Always following him. 

The resolve that had been wavering back and forth this last week hardened.

He stopped so suddenly the boy almost ran head first into him. 

"All right." Sanzo said deliberately. "Go find a clearing. We'll eat first." He saw the boy's face lit up with simple delight, and the thought came that this would be the last time he would see this look. He wondered why it did not bring him any relief.

**

Dinner was a subdued affair. The boy had seemed to pick up on Sanzo's mood and wisely refrained from his usual chatter as he ate. Sanzo himself had merely nibbled on his ration. 

He glanced at the boy busy devouring his roasted ptarmigan. Throughout dinner, he had thought about how best to go about it, and had finally given up on tact. It had never been his strong point anyway. Better just to use the most direct method.

It was past time to leave him. 

He rose to his feet, fetching his walking staff and straw hat. The boy looked up from his meal. "Goin' now?" He mumbled a bit indistinctly around a mouthful, and made to rise. 

"No." 

Sanzo looked at the boy, consciously letting all expressions bleed away from his face and eyes. 

"You're not going."

He ignored the confusion starting in the boy's face and turned away. 

"Matte – San…"

"I've said this before." Sanzo did not turn around. "What makes you think you're coming with me?" Each word, coldly precise and as emotionless as a stranger's, fell between them and it was as if a shadow fell across the sun and chilled the noonday warmth. 

A pause. When the boy spoke next, his voice was timid, and so painfully bewildered. 

"I… what do you mean?"

Sanzo's fist tightened around the walking stick. Get rid of him. Focus on that and just ignore… the rest. 

He chose each word carefully to hurt, driving them home like a weapon, wielded by a scathing tone and a tongue that spoke such words so easily.

"You've followed me long enough. I've been patient, but enough is enough." 

"I'm leaving."

He started walking away.

"Sanzo…!" The sound of footsteps behind him.

"**_Kuruna!!"_**

A stifled gasp. Sanzo turned around, putting the force of his whole will into a fierce glare. The boy stared back at him as if turned to stone, body arrested in mid-motion by the command. 

"I am not playing a game with you." Sanzo said softly, watching the boy's eyes. "This time is for real."

The boy opened his mouth, about to say something, words that would try to plead, that would try to bind…

The soft _click of a gun being cocked fell into the silence. _

Sanzo sighted down the barrel at the wide eyes and flung his last weapon. "You know how many youkais I have killed with this?"

Dazed golden eyes blinked back at him, not catching on. "…eh…?"

Sanzo lifted his chin, staring down at the boy from half-lidded eyes. "Youkais. Like you." He let his lips twist into a condescending sneer. 

"You think I went up that mountain to free you? Don't make me laugh."

_I just wanted the voice to stop._

It _was_ funny, in a way. He had wanted to silence the voice that had touched him uncomfortably deep inside, yet all he had done was release it.

"You think I'd go out of my way to save a youkai? When all my life I've been killing any that passed my way?" 

_There is no place for you in my life. _

"I've lost count of how many I've killed. Believe me, you don't want to be the next one."

The boy had a stunned look on his face, the wounds he had given him had not started hurting yet. Still, those unguarded eyes stared at him – and still, he tried. 

"Sanzo, ne.... You're not serious…"

The sharp retort of a gunshot thundered in the clearing. Wild cawings came from the forest as spooked birds took flight. 

The boy lifted one shaking finger, touched the thin line of red that seeped down one cheek.

"I told you." Sanzo's voice was quiet, with no inflection whatsoever. "I'm through playing pet games with you."

Huge eyes gazed back. Understanding now. 

"Follow me – and I will kill you."

Sanzo uncocked the gun and turned. He did not know what made him threw the last words back, but he did.

"You're free. Go choose your own path." 

Then he walked away without looking back. No footsteps followed him, no childish voice calling his name. Silence behind him. Silence in his heart. 

_Don't get caught again… baka-saru. _

CONTINUED IN PART 3B 

***

NOTES:

Japanese translations:

§Temee = you (roughly spoken)

§Datte = but

§Kuruna = don't come/follow

§Baka saru = idiot monkey

I'll finish this in part 3B, I swear ^^;; (why do I keep end up extending this…).

[C&C Me! ][1]

   [1]: mailto:dewinaga@yahoo.co.uk



	4. Binding Fate - Chapter 4

A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION Dewi N. Widjaja Normal Dewi Widjaja 3 521 2001-09-25T05:05:00Z 2001-11-12T15:33:00Z 8 4483 25554 PwC 212 51 31382 9.2720 

**A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION**

**By NAGA**

Disclaimer: This fanfic is based on Saiyuki by Minekura Kazuya. There is no profit to be made and no copyright infringement was intended. 

Ratings      : PG13 (I think ^^;, violence, swearings, no adult content, sorry folks ; )

Timeline: The story starts before Genjo Sanzo's first meeting with Son Gokuu

Spoiler      : A tiny bit – mostly from the Shu-e story line     

BINDING FATE 

Sanzo knew that he was being stalked. 

It had started some time before dusk. There had not been anything too obvious, no _youki_, no sounds or sightings that might have revealed the stalkers. But he had that niggling disquiet at the back of his mind that refused to go away – an edgy feel of being watched, of malevolence being directed at him, intent and persistent. 

He knew better than to ignore his feelings. Not as if he had not been expecting this, after all. Only he wished that it had not come so soon. He was not quite ready yet. 

Sanzo cursed as he peered into the darkening forest, trying to pick out the dips and holes on the dirt trail, the tangling roots and branches almost hidden by the falling shadows. This would definitely be a bad time to trip and break something important. 

He hefted his pack more securely, his left shoulder starting to complain from the unusual strain. Its heaviness, far more than mere rations could account for, was a reassuring weight on his back. More than food and water had gone into the pack, in the short time he was able to re-provision himself in the village. He had packed a little something for insurance, just in case the other side decided to play dirty and brought some friends along for the fight. Sanzo would. Sanzo was never one for fair play when cheating would so nicely win him the battle. After all, he was one and they were many; and he owed them nothing, least of all a fair fight. 

It would seem that his caution had paid off. 

Sanzo picked his way slowly through the undergrowth, pretending to be an oblivious fool who did not know that he was being hunted; hoping like hell that he would reach his destination before whoever they were got tired of skulking around and decided to jump him. 

He had spied the place on his way up the mountain weeks ago, and remembered thinking it the perfect place for an ambush. Or to ambush the ambushers, if the supposed victim knew about the intention before hand – and was smart enough to do something with that advantage.

Sanzo intended to wring every bit of advantage he could get. 

***

_The hunt was on. _

The wolf pack was up ahead, loping soundlessly among the trees, following the scent of the priest and keeping pace mere meters away from the ignorant target. Human senses were so laughably weak. They had picked up his scent and followed him from afar since hours ago, from the time he first saw that familiar slender form moving down the dirt road from his vantage point above the trail.  

He stayed well back, despite his mounting excitement, not wanting the priest to sense him yet. His brothers and sisters were his guide to the priest. For the moment, they were content to do his bidding and curb themselves. But they were getting impatient, with the heat of the chase in their blood and the prey dangled so enticingly near yet untouchable by his order. 

_He would give them free rein soon, but not yet, not until he had the human where he wanted him. This had to take place in the open, not in the anonymous darkness of the forest. He would need the moonlight to show him everything – he wanted to see the priest's face as he bathed his remaining hand in his blood, as he tore his body and showed him his still-beating heart. He would drink the breath from that thin, fine lips and taste of the warm sweetness in his mouth, just before he ripped his throat out. _

_Patience, he counseled himself, then grinned mirthfully._

_Maybe he would even keep the head. Just for the sake of fond memory. _

***

The half-full moon cast a weak, wavery light on the clearing, deformed shadows dancing on the scorched ground of the clearing. The bole of the huge oak that stood in the middle of the devastation shaded nearly half of the open ground, the coal-dark branches splintered and twisted like skeletal limbs gouging at the night sky. Five men holding hands would barely be able to circle the base of it. Some time in the near past, lightning had sundered the tree nearly in two, the massive trunk split halfway down as if cleaved by a mighty sword. What the lightning had started, the fire had finished. The century-year-old tree was just one massive, blackened corpse now. Dead, though it would take years for the body to acknowledge it and fell apart at last. 

Sanzo tried not to dwell much on the significance of his making a stand here. His fingers ached from gripping his gun too hard, and the fingers of his other hand were stroking the plait of the rough hemp rope with obsessiveness born of strung-out nerves. Where he was standing flush against the tree trunk, the rope ran hidden behind him and snaked up into the split in the middle of the wood, disappearing among the shadowed branches above. He could only hope the poor lighting would hide what he had set up. Lacking time for anything else, it would have to be enough. Sanzo resisted the urge to peer uselessly at the faintly disturbed ground a few meters in front of him. There was nothing to see – he had done everything that he could. And if it was not enough, then there was nothing more he could add at this late hour.

Ten minutes he had waited here, another half an hour from the time he had arrived at the clearing and took to his tasks with frenzied hurry. Each second, he expected a tendril of that familiar ice-cold _youki_ to brush past his senses, painfully tuned to abrasive sensitivity. Each second that the touch did not come cranked up his anxiety another notch and added fuel to his feverish work. As long as the youkai was not within eye-sight, he still had time. Unless it was able to see through the eyes of the things that had been tracking him. In which case he would end up dead and buried in short time, probably in a most unpleasant manner.

A good thing that monkey-boy was no longer with him. If he was, and he kept on chattering inanities at him, Sanzo would have cheerfully murdered him within seconds.  

He grimaced and shook his head. Damn it all to hell, why in the world could he even _think_ of that idiot while he was in a fight for his life? _Concentrate, damn you, concentrate_. 

 There. A glimpse of yellow eyes, just at the edge of the clearing. Sanzo tensed, all extraneous thoughts driven out of his mind as he peered hard at the dense gloom. Another flash, further to the right. Sanzo darted a quick glance across his field of vision, and his heart sank as he glimpsed more flashes of movement all around. And now, soft sounds breaking the quiet, like padded footsteps, too light for a human. 

One of the darker shadows in front of him detached itself with a fluid movement and glided out into the clearing. 

Sanzo stared at the grey muzzle streaked with white, at the intense, intelligent amber eyes that gazed at him with disquieting fearlessness. 

_A wolf. Oh, hell._ And a whole pack of them, if those other movements were any indication. 

"Someone must've really hated me up there," Sanzo muttered through gritted teeth. The palm holding _Soureijuu_ was uncomfortably slippery with sweat, but he did not have the leisure to wipe it now. His mind raced frantically as he recalculated his plan. He remembered the torn bodies of the last victims. His assumption was that the youkai who attacked him had did that, or maybe he had managed to lure another one or two of his kind from somewhere to band together with him. He did not think there could be many of them, there were not that many rogue youkais around in the area. But now this wolf pack… It could simply be a wild pack that he had the misfortune to stumble across, or it could be something else. It was rare, but not unheard of, for the occasional youkai to bond with wild animals and run with them like one of their own. If this was the case, then his estimate of the number of enemies was off by at least two times. Wolves seldom hunted in a pack less than three, and even if they were not quite as dangerous as a youkai would be, they were still lethal enough to a lone human. 

"Well…," he murmured, a defiant grin twisted his lips like a grimace. "Never did have the best of luck. Come on, then… Come on, if you think you can take me."

The wolf lifted its snout as if understanding him. On an unspoken signal, several shadows moved simultaneously out of the forest and into the clearing. Sanzo counted five of them. Five to one. Six, if he counted in the as yet elusive youkai. Bad odds. He had survived worse before, but he had had the initiative and the element of surprise then 

No matter. His plan would still work. He may just had to deal with a few more than he had thought necessary.

Sanzo lifted his gun and pointed it at the leader. His aim was steady, despite his thumping heart. The leader slowly moved forward and the rest of the pack followed suit, forming a steadily shrinking semi-circle with Sanzo at the center. His trigger finger itched to shoot one of them in the head – he had the leader right in his eye-sight. But he did not dare waste precious bullets. Not when it was not yet necessary to do so. 

"Come on…," he whispered, almost to himself, willing the pack to move closer. "Come on, bastards, come and get me." 

Closer… closer…, but not enough. And not like this. He needed the mass of them to concentrate two meters in front of him, but two meters were well within leaping distance for a wolf. 

Right. Change of plan. 

Sanzo carefully sidled to his right, keeping his back firmly against the trunk. His right foot found a broken branch and he kicked them to the wolf nearest him, which shied away as he hoped. That opened up the distance from him to the right side of the half-circle. 

Slowly, slowly… don't provoke them… 

Each pain-stakingly careful movement seemed to take an eternity. Five pairs of glowing yellow eyes followed his progress, muzzles with unnervingly sharp fangs turned as one to follow his body. The pack shifted slowly to follow him as he crept to the right, gradually but definitely closing the semi-circle surrounding him. The leader trod on the disturbed ground that Sanzo had packed in half an hour ago. Sanzo's heart stuttered in his chest as the male stopped and lowered his muzzle to sniff at the ground. It gave a sudden sneeze and shook its head. At that moment Sanzo's sandaled feet slipped on gravels and the leader perked up at that small sound, staring back up at Sanzo and appearing to dismiss whatever it was that had caught its attention. 

Sanzo gritted his teeth and sneaked a look to his right. The circle was getting uncomfortably close. He kicked a few more convenient stones and branches, hoping for more space to the right. The two wolves nearest him paced tensely back and forth, deigning to jump back only the necessary small leaps to avoid getting hit, but refusing to move any further. They stared at him with unblinking, hungry eyes, their heads coming down as low growls began to vibrate in their throats.

All right. No more delaying. 

As the leader crouched and bared its yellowed fangs, Sanzo wound the strong hemp rope twice around his left fist, then abruptly aimed up and fired. 

The bullet hit his traveling pack that he had pulled up and lodged firmly at the base of the tree's main branch. A deafening blast showered the night air with fiery crimson sparks as the pack of mining explosive detonated. Sanzo flinched despite himself, and the wolf pack jumped as one with startled yips. 

The blast almost hid the ominous creaking of a heavy branch surrendering to gravity. With half of its base blown up, a branch twice again the width of a man collapsed to the ground, implacably pulling down the rope tied around it. The loose rope snapped taut with an audible crack, hissing with friction as the hemp abraded against the makeshift pivot of the split trunk. The loops around Sanzo's fist dug into his skin as his arm and body was yanked up with a painful wrench. 

The scene swung dizzily below him as he was pulled up in a twisting spiral, passing perilously close to the wildly snarling wolves. A good thing they were themselves disorganized and far too unnerved to be interested in him. The branch hit the ground with a ponderous crash, scattering the wolves, and Sanzo was left hanging six meters in the air, swinging slowly back and forth. He clamped hard on incipient nausea and peered down. 

The pack was in shock. The leader was the only one still with fire in its guts, pacing right below Sanzo and emitting harsh growls as it looked up at the unreachable prey. Another wolf slunk near the edge of the forest, tail tucked in between its legs. Both of them were out of range, but the rest… they were milling confusedly near where Sanzo had been standing before, nervously eyeing the burning branch and the falling sparks, bodies quivering and tensed to spring away. One of them was standing right on top of the loose patch of dirt that the leader had sniffed at. It looked down in puzzlement and started absently pawing the ground.  

Sanzo's lips stretched in a fierce grin that made him look uncannily just like the killers below. Then he aimed and shot the wolf's head. The bullet punched right through the skull and out the other side, slamming into the dirt. 

The ground exploded in one huge blast as all the remaining mines he had buried detonated as one. Sanzo felt the pressure wave hit him like a giant fist and he was slammed bodily against the trunk, his grunt of pain lost in the roar. He clung grimly to his gun, refusing to ditch it and clutch the rope even when the momentum reversed and he swung crazily like a pendulum. Blood dripped down his left arm where the rough hemp cut into his palm and his shoulder muscle screamed from the abuse. Sanzo gritted his teeth and rode the rough ride blind, hiding his face into the fold of his robe as baking heat rose up in a wave to envelope him. 

When the worst of it had passed, he peered down cautiously. Directly below him was a wide, shallow crater where the explosives had blown up the earth. Clumps of smoldering fur and unrecognizable bits lay around the radius of the crater. Here and there small fires burned fitfully on tough barks of the oak trunk and the nearest bushes, but none looked strong enough to start anything serious. No sign anywhere of the cowardly wolf and the grey-muzzled leader was beginning to slink away dazedly, apparently thrown off by the sudden turn of events.

Sanzo unlocked his lungs, forcing himself to take in the seared air that smelled faintly of burning flesh. He could handle one wolf. The muzzle of Soureijuu lifted from his side and the wolf leader looked up suddenly, golden eyes meeting Sanzo's purple gaze as it stared into its death. 

A spike of pure cold was his only warning as his senses screamed at him. His strung-out nerves actually managed to whip back the gun in record time, and fired off a shot behind him. But he had forgotten the rope and the reaction swung him wildly, throwing his aim. He got a glimpse of dark body and white claws streaking through the night at him, and his curse changed into a bitten off cry as sharp pain sliced into right arm. The blow rocked him back and Sanzo hit the trunk – saw his attacker hit the ground below and leapt straight up for him. At the mercy of the treacherous rope, there was no way he could dodge the blow. 

Sanzo did the only thing he could. He let go of the rope. Air slashed where his torso had been a second ago.

He fell the six meters to the ground and hit the crater rolling. Got knocked about as the crater tipped him down the incline to slam up painfully against the far side. Sanzo's vision blackened alarmingly and his half-breathless curse sounded shaky even to himself. _I am sick of getting my breath knocked out of me._ He forced himself to scramble half-blind up the crater edge and stood up.

The youkai was watching him from across the crater. 

Shoureijuu was up and ready before Sanzo even consciously thought about it. He blinked back involuntary tears as tendrils of acrid smoke wisping up from the ground got into his eyes. Bits of still-burning bushes and a few tongues of flame licking up the oak bark provided nominal illumination – a wavering, sullen red glow that conceal as much as expose.

This was the first time Sanzo saw his opponent's face. All in all, he was rather surprised at how human the youkai looked. Everything about the other so far had been savagely beast-like, he had vaguely expected to see a physical shape that matched the actions. But the one before him could have passed easily for a human if not for the green cat-like slit of his eyes. The face was sharp-boned with narrow chin, not altogether unpleasant to look at. Broad shoulders and torso, dressed in supple brown leathers and fur-lined short jacket and boots. Wisps of brown hair escaped from furred hat pulled low, covering the tips of his ears. He looked like any hunter or trapper who had just stepped out of the forest, except for the right sleeve hanging disconcertingly empty and pinned back to his wide belt.   

Sanzo took a breath. Two. Sneered. "So, here you are again. Would you like me to blow away the rest of your limbs?"

The youkai gazed at him impassively. Then he slowly grinned, revealing two rows of razor-sharp, filed teeth. Just like that, the mild veneer of humanity was shed like a too-thin skin and the predator, the man-killer, gazed out from the façade. Sanzo's breath hissed between gritted teeth. Despite knowing better, the effect was still like a punch to the gut – not unlike seeing a placid dog suddenly turned rabid under your hands. When the youkai spoke, it was that same low, half-growled whisper that fairly rippled with menace. 

"Confident little monk, aren't you?" The youkai inclined his head pointedly at Sanzo. "The way you're standing, I would think that some of that confidence is nothing but… aah, 'hot air coming out of your ass'?" The youkai's grin widened. It was like watching a shark smile. 

Sanzo felt himself flush at having his own words so many weeks ago thrown back at him. The youkai was right, he was still feeling the effect of that fall. He sternly reminded his legs to behave and locked less than steady knees together. Right now, he gave himself fifty-fifty chance of nailing the bastard and that was not encouraging odds. _So keep him talking._

"Why kill humans? You know that we would hunt you down." 

The youkai cocked his head at that. "Why… no particular reason. Because I wanted to."

"What was _that_ supposed to mean?" Sanzo snapped. The youkai looked at him thoughtfully. _Gods_. It was eerie as hell how the thing looked so normal, like anyone you could have passed on the street and not looked twice at. 

"Ever tasted human flesh, little monk?"

On second thought, maybe not. "Sick bastard…," he hissed. 

Another death-head grin. "Thought not. Can't tell you what you're missing out, boy. All that tender meat… especially the women's." The sense of amusement grew as Sanzo struggled to keep his face impassive, to not let the thing goaded him into stupid fury. "But the men put up better fight. Much more fun to hunt down, to play with. Like you."

Shoureijuu jumped in his hands, the bang sounding muted in his abused ears. But the youkai was gone. Sanzo threw himself into a side roll, coming into a crouch and searching frantically for the youkai. 

"You killed my wolf brothers."

Sanzo started. The voice faded in and out, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. "Nice trick," he whispered to himself. He could not hit what he could not see, and the voice trick made it impossible to aim based on hearing only. The youki was no help at all, dispersed around the area the way it had been during their first encounter. 

"You took away my hand."

But if the youkai was talking, then he was not attacking. And if he was not attacking, he was giving Sanzo valuable time. There was another trick up his sleeve that he doubted the youkai knew. He certainly used it seldom enough, preferring to rely on Shoureijuu's quick result rather than relying on a weapon that would leave him vulnerable for the precious seconds he needed to trigger it. But one thing in its favor – _this_ weapon did not need aiming. And the bastard would certainly not be prepared for the _Maten-kyomon_.  

            "How do you think I should punish you, boy?"

_Keep talking_. Sanzo edged his way carefully towards the center of the clearing, letting the youkai think he aimed to put his back to the huge tree. Even as he moved, he took one deep breath. As he exhaled slowly, he let all the extraneous thoughts and emotions flowed out of his mind, out of his being. His lips moved in a silent chant, ancient words that most people thought held the power of the _kyomon_. But he knew better. The words were nothing but a tool, a focus and an outlet for the mind. Where the real power lay. 

            "Used to be a hunter, boy. Used to live in a village, over the mountains. Living with the sheep, just another one of the flock." 

An image of black, bottomless pool floated in his mind, perfect concentric ripples undulating across its surface. He focused on it, smoothing the rippling water with his mind, sinking deeper into the meditative trance required to touch the power in the sutra. Monks in his order spent all their lives perfecting their meditative skills, yet none of them came close to what he could do. It was part of what made him Genjo Sanzo. 

            "Until I killed one of them in an accident. A brawl over nothing. A piece of drunken trash."

Deeper, deeper. The mocking voice washed over his consciousness, but it had lost the power to effect him. The ripples were slowing, the pool's surface smoothing into an obsidian mirror, disturbed only by gentle wavelets. Deeper, deeper. Warmth began to beckon, just out of reach. He imagined the bottom of the pool beginning to glow with the warmth, light reaching up from unfathomable depth. 

"But his death was not a waste. It woke me up. Woke me to what I am. What I am born to be."

The light had spread over half the surface, its warmth bathing him from inside out. The kind of warmth that he had always associated with his mentor. The warmth felt like coming home. He stretched towards it. The glow brushed against his mind, welcoming. 

            "I killed them all, you know. Down to the last mewling babe. _That_ was refreshing."

The mirror wavered. The light shone out of reach.

            "Human limbs were so easy to tear off. Fragile. So breakable."

Red painted limbs, broken stumps on shattered body, unnatural sprawl on the floor when there had always been grace… robbed in death the way everything else was taken away…  

The mirror fractured. A brush of wind ruffling his hair, warm breath caressing his right ear. 

"And after that – I simply _could not stop_."

A hammer blow clipped the side of his head and shattered his focus and balance. Found himself on the ground, surfacing up (floundering back) to a body that fit like an ill-matched shell. Merely human, once again. 

Sanzo managed to scramble to his feet, not quite steady, not quite in control of his limbs. The sense of disorientation was a damning weakness, liable to turn fatal if he could not come back to himself fast enough. No time to curse the failure. He would need all his resources to get out of this one.

_Damn it, this was why I don't like to use the kyomon. _Sanzo shook his ringing head and tried to force his eyes to focus on the youkai, standing in front of him. So arrogant, so sure of his victory. 

Trouble was, it was beginning to look like he might be right. 

One on one in a physical fight, Sanzo was no match for the youkai, and they both knew it. His human reflexes were simply not fast enough to deal with a youkai's. The _Maten-kyomon_ had the power, but it was useless unless he had time to recite it – time his opponent was not going to give him. 

Still, he was damned if he would go down without a fight.

The youkai met Sanzo's icy glare with palpable amusement. When Sanzo's grip tightened on his gun, the youkai laughed out loud. 

And the space around Sanzo came alive with barbed limbs, whipping around him and tangling up his limbs before he could even see them clearly. 

He cried out when the limbs constricted around his chest, his arms and legs, the barbs digging into his flesh like a hundred jabbing knives. Tried instinctively to tug his limbs loose and felt tears of pain sprung to his eyes when the barbs tore along his flesh. A yank and his legs flew out from under him, and he hit the ground hard. 

Sanzo blinked the tears away furiously, staring up at the sky and hearing the frantic pounding of his heart. His limbs were stretched flat on the ground, spread-eagled. A shadowy outline moved from above his field of vision, blocking the view. It shifted closer and something wet dripped on his face. 

A break in the clouds let through faint moonlight. Sanzo blinked and finally saw yellow fangs. Two rows of razor-sharp incisors and glowing yellow eyes. A rumbling growl reverberated through the space between them and he shuddered away from the unnatural monstrosity above him. Flinched as another droplet of warm saliva fell on his cheek. 

"Liked him?"

The youkai's body was outlined against the dark, then his legs were crushed against the ground as the youkai straddled him. 

"What the hell is this thing?" Sanzo forced the words through gritted teeth, fighting against the revulsion of having his personal space being so completely invaded. Fighting against the swelling panic of being so completely helpless.

The youkai captured his chin, long claws hovering distressingly near his eyes, and tilted his head back. 

Sanzo saw a body bulging in muscles, covered in brown fur with a spattering of grey-white. Four normal-looking limbs and a bushy tail. Except where the smooth sleek back should be, long barbed limbs sprouted like spider's legs, limbs that so thoroughly ensnared him. Despite the deformation and the almost tripled size, Sanzo recognized the wolf leader that had been the last of the pack. 

"What did you do to it?" Sanzo whispered, appalled.

"Nothing he would not eventually come into," his opponent replied easily. A hand stroked the distorted muzzle and the creature leant its head into the petting, a sound that might have signified pleasure rumbling in its throat.

"He had the shape-changing blood, far back in his ancestry. Dormant, until I lent him a little help. If he was just a little bit stronger, he might even have the strength to change into human form. Be one of us. But he didn't." 

"You changed him into this monster."

"Monster?" The youkai smiled. "I think he's lovely. Certainly very useful, and very loyal to me." The grip around Sanzo's chin tightened, the claws digging into his check and drawing beads of blood. "You have no idea how much trouble I went through to change him, change them all. And you went and kill almost all of them, before they could even show you what they can do. You cheated."

"Too bad I missed one," Sanzo grounded out. "Next time I'll do better." The claws shifted down, closed around his throat, and squeezed. Sanzo fought to draw breath, but the claws were like vice clamps. His lungs struggled painfully for a breath that never came. His vision was starting to gray out before the claws loosened slightly, allowing him to draw a little bit of air. Too little to be sufficient, and every single thin thread was a painful exertion. 

Warm air brushed over his face, smelling the faintest bit of carrion. "Smart mouth," the whispered words seemed to come from a long tunnel, something secondary to his efforts to breathe. "I'd like to say that I admire guts in a human, but the truth is, I prefer eating them."

Nausea roiled in his stomach and he must have struggled in reaction, because the claws tightened around him again and he choked in that stronghold. The youkai leant down on his grip and for a long moment the only thing in his world was the agonizing burn in his chest and the crushing pressure against his throat. 

When he came back to awareness, the only thing he could focus on was the sweet air burning down his throat. His chest heaved against the restraining limb as he gulped greedily at what was once taken for granted. 

"Welcome back."

Damn.

"I've got to learn to be more careful. Kept forgetting how frail you humans are." Sanzo felt the youkai shifting his seat across his limbs. "Wouldn't do to have you dead too fast. Where would be the fun in that?" The youkai leant down against him, their groins brushed together, and that was when Sanzo felt the very unmistakable evidence of arousal. 

Oh, shit. Not this. 

"Son of a bitch," he grated, panic of a different kind starting to well up. He bucked against the weight on top of him and struggled blindly against the bindings, even when he knew that it was useless. All he managed to accomplish was further tearing up his wounds, hot blood trickling down his flesh to the accompaniment of fresh burning pain. 

The youkai seemed more amused than anything else. "Don't worry. Your… virtue, is safe with me. I don't enjoy fucking men, even if you are very pretty." A caress along his cheekbone that had his skin crawling in horrified revulsion. "But I do enjoy… taking humans apart. Especially one I've stalked and anticipated for so long. You've shown me pain – the kind that robbed a body of thought, the kind that robbed everything from you and reduced you into just… _being_. Into your essence." 

The clawed fingers held his face tightly, precluding movement. And the mouth lowered to touch his lips lightly, almost like a benediction. 

"I'm going to return you the favor. And you will give me pleasure."

Oh, great. The bastard was not going to fuck him, but he _was_ going to torture him to death and jack off while doing it.

This is not happening. 

No way in hell. 

If he were going to die, then he would bring the bastard with him. The _Maten-kyomon_ did not need to be recited audibly in order to tap its power. All that was really needed was the focused concentration – necessary to prime the mind into touching a power more than mortal in origin. 

It would be difficult to concentrate while the youkai was killing him. It might be impossible, and it would certainly be too late. But if revenge were all that he could have, then by hell he would have it. 

At least this way the bastard would not be around to rip up more people. He could not get the one that killed his master, but he would get this one. 

Oshou-sama… I'm sorry. So sorry I'm still not strong enough.

To be finished… 

C&C Me! 


	5. Binding Fate - Chapter 5

A SAIYUKI FANFICTION Dewi N. Widjaja Normal Dewi Widjaja 7 822 2001-11-12T15:15:00Z 2001-11-12T15:33:00Z 11 4352 24810 PwC 206 49 30468 9.2720 

**A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION**

**By NAGA**

Disclaimer: This fanfic is based on Saiyuki by Minekura Kazuya. There is no profit to be made and no copyright infringement was intended. 

Ratings      : PG13 (I think ^^;, violence, swearings, no adult content, sorry folks ; )

Timeline: The story starts before Genjo Sanzo's first meeting with Son Gokuu

Spoiler      : A tiny bit – mostly from the Shu-e story line     

BINDING FATE 

"What are you thinking of right now?"

A glide of nails along the sensitive vein on his neck, an almost ticklish sensation that sent a chill up his spine. Sanzo turned his head sideways, as far as he could get from the maliciously amused voice whispering in his ear. 

He pushed away regrets as he sought to sink down again into the still pool in his mind. The caress turned into a sharp stab of pain and he bit back a scream. It distracted him, forced him to stop, unable to fully detach himself.  

"You're not paying attention to me. I don't like that."

"Go to hell." He hissed through gritted teeth. He fought again to reach the trance state, desperately hoping that the pain would have less hold on him there. 

A soft laugh. "You first."

It was hard to concentrate, so hard. He was barely able to maintain a small level of detachment. The long fingers wandered down his body, untying knots and spreading open loose robe. 

One long, razor-tipped nail hooked into the top of his body suit and pulled down slowly, the soft ripping sound of fabric preternaturally loud in his ears. He could feel the hard tip of the nail slicing open a thin layer of skin, a line of liquid warmth mapped down all the way to his navel. Goosebumps broke on sweat-dampened skin as the cloth was peeled away and the night air hit his overheated body. The palm flattened against his lower stomach, just above his groin. The physical warmth felt at odds with the icy chill of fear the action generated. The talons slowly curved inward, digging into soft flesh.

His concentration wavered.  

The youkai looked down thoughtfully at the thin rivulets of blood running down Sanzo's sides. 

"…maybe later." He smiled at Sanzo. "You humans die so quickly when gutted." The fingers suddenly raked close, the razor-sharp edges carving  into his flesh so smoothly and so quickly his body took a moment to recognize the damage. The white-hot pain hit a full two seconds later and a bitten off cry escaped Sanzo's lips as he curled in instinctively. His limbs pulled against the taut restraints, more raw pain shooting up strained hands and thighs. 

"Go on, scream." The taunt was almost affectionate. "You will anyway, sooner or later. They all did."

Perversely, he held the pain in. He felt the dull, aching strain in his jaws, but it was nothing compared to the fiery open wounds on his stomach. 

He saw the youkai licking away one bloody finger and felt nausea climbing up. The youkai smiled, enjoying the revulsion and laid the same finger on Sanzo's cheek. He could not stop himself from flinching away. The youkai considered him like one would a butterfly specimen nailed on the board. He frowned. 

"Rather awkward position this is. Let's see…"

He looked up and his eyes went distant. There was a dry, rasping sound and Sanzo felt the limbs holding him down gave way a bit. That was all he needed. He waited until the youkai put his hand underneath one shoulder, obviously intending to lift him up. That was when he lunged up intending to butt the youkai in the head, at the same kicking a knee up for the stomach. 

He missed the head-butt, seeing the grinning mouth passed as the youkai turned, felt the knee hit air. Then his vision was blocked by a descending palm and the next thing he knew the back of his head hit the unyielding ground hard enough to rattle all his teeth. 

The voice came as if from a long tunnel. "I believe I'm insulted. Do you actually think I would fall for a similar ruse twice?"

Sanzo felt his body lifted up, tried to struggle but his muscles seemed to have turned to water and nothing worked properly. He felt the youkai moving his limbs, pulling his arms to stretch back behind him. He managed to get his eyes open and saw the youkai lean back with a satisfied smile. He was now kneeling on the ground, sharp pebbles digging into his knees, arms held behind his back. The limbs held his upper body erect and his lower legs flat to the ground. 

"Perfect."

Sanzo felt himself being embraced, soft lips nuzzling him on his throat. 

"Don't faint on me now, little monk. We're just starting."

Warm hand caressed him from the shoulders, all the way down to the wrist stretched behind him. Fingers closed on his right wrist, then with a savage twist, broke the fragile bones. 

His body convulsed with the pain. He felt the youkai pressed cheek to cheek against him, hugging him close like a lover, but he could not find the strength to even move his head away. 

The hand moved back up the length of his arm to stop at the joints where his right arm met his shoulder. The face pulled back to watch him, hunger in the green slitted eyes. He felt the fingers probe the joint, knew what he meant to do. 

"An arm for an arm, boy."

A plea almost escaped him, but sheer pride made him choke it down. He would die before he beg. 

When the youkai dislocated his shoulder, the world was awashed with pain that drowned out everything else. 

There was a panting moan from somewhere far away. He did not recognize it as his, the voice had sounded so weak and helpless. Pathetic. 

"…quisite"

The whisper again, in his ear. "You scream so beautifully, little monk."

He had not screamed. Had he? 

"I have tried many things, little monk. Experimented on the other humans, to see how much would be too much, too fast, and how much would allow me to prolong this. Did you know a man could linger for an amazingly long time, even with half his bones crushed? As long as you are careful not to nick a main artery or vein, we can do this for hours."

Panic was trying to rouse his body, but his thoughts felt sluggish. There was something he needed to do, but it kept on escaping him. Something to stop the pain, something to…

"I wonder how could I make you scream louder."

The fingers cupped his face, caressing it gently. When one finger pressed against a closed lid, Sanzo instinctively turned his face away. 

"Ah."

The chuckle that followed woke him up somewhat. A cold finger of dread made him open his eyes. The youkai was smiling.

"You have beautiful eyes, little monk."

His breath hitched in his throat and panic welled up full force, clearing the cobwebs in his mind. No. _No_. 

"I told myself I would keep a souvenir from our little encounter. I was thinking of your head, but it is such a cumbersome thing to carry everywhere. An eye, though… it would do just as well."

He hated the sound that he made when the finger touched the eyelid of his right eye, pulling it back to expose the eyeball. The youkai was watching him avidly, seeming to feed from his panic and fear. The tip of the claw pressed against the corner of his eye, starting to dig in. Blood welled up, stinging and staining his vision red, and in that moment of horror Sanzo knew absolute despair. 

I am going to die… 

An enraged shriek rang through the clearing and his body was rocked with impact – the weight on top of his suddenly disappeared as his numbed mind belatedly registered confused cacophony of howls and pained yowls.   

He half-raised his head and blinked back blood, barely seeing through red-washed vision. Caught peripheral snatches of two figures locked in a tumbling brawl, a glimpse of crimson-tinted brown hair, a snatch of furred vest, a flash of feral golden eyes. 

He had not thought his heart could sink any lower than it already did. He was wrong. 

Shit, no. The Idiot! 

As if to accentuate his point, a small body went hurtling across the space to crash somewhere out of his vision, ending with loud, multiple cracks of broken branches and a pained cry.

From somewhere inside him he dragged up the strength to scream at his enemy, "You leave him alone! It's me that you want."

The youkai strode past him and almost casually back-handed him across the mouth. Blood filled his mouth and Sanzo closed his eyes, fighting against unconsciousness.  

Stupid, stupid, thrice-damned moron!! I've thrown you away, why'd you have to come back?

He lifted blurred eyes, but the youkai had gone behind him, out of his sight. 

Calm down. Calm down.

It took all his self-control and training to heed that voice of reason. He could not help anyone, not like this. Worse, he was a liability, a burden. 

His breath burned painfully in his chest. He had sworn four years ago that he would be strong, that he would never be a liability again, never be caught helpless, never had to watch…  

His breathing steadied as the familiar resolution set in. Now was different. He had to believe that. He had had four years to make that difference. Now was the time to prove it. 

There was only one chance for both of them. 

Sanzo closed his eyes and plunged deep into his mind, deafening himself to the sounds of the fight, indications of a losing fight. If the sounds stopped before he resurfaced, at least he would not have to see the evidence of another of his failure. Weak coward that he was, death was preferable to facing another person's death on his behalf.

He sank deep like a stone, falling for the still mirror of ebony, reaching down, down…  …and emerged into the light.

***

_People who recite this mantra, will attain the wisdom the Buddhas. _

Koryuu turned his head aside, the crisp smell of late autumn wind filling his nose, the soft paper-rustle of dry leaves all the sound in the world. 

His master sat on the simple prayer pad on the wooden floor. The wall panels were open behind him, the pale moonlight falling on the leaves of the sheltering maple tree outside, bringing out the dark red highlights and framing Koumyo Sanzo in an almost unbearably vivid, fiery crown of leaves.

_What mantra is that, Master?_

_                His Master smiled, a secretive, almost playful edge it. As if he was laughing at a joke that no one else knew.   _

_                The one that I will teach you tonight._

_There was a sutra open between them, an old silk scroll with older words written on them. _

_Koryuu shrugged. I don't need to know any mantra. _

                Oh, but one day you will need to. This mantra turns the sufferings into the Bodhi mind. 

_Koryuu frowned at his Master. I'd rather not suffer at all, if you don't mind me saying so. I don't think I really take to this whole suffering-is-enlightening thing. _

_His Master laughed silently. Oh, that sounds very much like something you will say, Koryuu. _

_But Koryuu, suffering is inevitable. And sometimes, the truth behind the teachings are so profound that a man can only see it when he is driven to his limits, or when he is close to leaving this mortal coil. _

_Are you saying that the closer to being dead you are, the easier it will be for you to understand it? Koryuu asked incredulously. That's horrible._

_His Master smiled. _

_Sometimes, that's the way it is. You will understand, Koryuu. _

_When it is time for me to go, this will be the mantra that will pass my lips. And I shall pass it to you. I trust you will make good use for it. _

_Koryuu felt a sudden sting in his eyes, an unpleasant premonition clutching his chest so it hurt to breathe. Why had the Master looked sad?_

_Master, he said. I don't really want to know. His voice seemed overlaid with a deeper voice, an older voice full of pain. _

_But his Master had pressed his palms together in front of him. Listen well, Koryuu, he said, and recite it with me._

_Namah Ratnatrayaya _

_Namo Aryavalokitesvaraya Bodhisattvaya _

_Koryuu reluctantly assumed the pose, feeling the weight of inevitability pressing down on him. _

_Mahasattvaya Mahakarunikaya Tadyatha _

_The wind had died down outside. He had closed his eyes, but somehow he could still see the silvery moonlight, the vivid crimson of the leaves. _

_Om tso- jie- ra- fa di- Chintamani _

_The room was dissolving around them, the edges of reality running together to fade away into the dark. But there was nothing to be afraid of in this dark. This silent depth that welcomed and embraced. The cadence of the mantra flowed around him, inside him, tugging forth something from deep in his soul. The rhythm of the words picked up._

_mo-ho bo-den mi. ru-ru-ru-ru. di- se tsa_

_re- ra- a-jie ri. sa-ya HONG! _

_The mantra was building to a climax. It had taken a life of its own and he was merely the vessel that resonated for it. He opened his eyes, and it was tears that fell down his eyes as he watched his Master's peaceful face. He knew now what the end of the mantra would bring. He watched with young/old eyes as the ancient words of power continued to resound around them.   _

_Om Padma Chintamani rera Hong! _

_His Master's eyes opened as they approached the last line. He was smiling, but it was tinted with sadness. His mouth moved, but he could not hear what was being said. The tears fell harder. And then, it was too late._

_Om- ba-la-to-bo dan-mi HONG!___

***

The intruder was an unpleasant complication. 

He had been so immersed on the young monk's agony and the slowly mounting terror that he had not even sense the other approaching until _it_ had bowled full-tilt into him. Unforgivable carelessness. His snarl was more for his own stupidity than any real feel of threat from the intruder. 

The other was half his size and young. Nowhere near a match to him. But the cub was doggedly tenacious, bounding back into the fight again and again, until he had smacked it so hard it had flown across the clearing to crash against the mature pines on the forest edge. _That_ had cut an entirely satisfactory swath of destruction and left the cub sprawled on the ground. 

His triumphant smile died down when the little body struggled up again, grubby fingers scrabbling to find purchase on the ground.   

There were tears brimming on the large, golden eyes. Not tears of pain, he realized. Frustration, impotent anger, and desperation so thick he could almost taste it. 

For some reason, the cub was trying to protect his human captive, to the extent that he would be willing to pay with his own life. It made him curious enough to ask.

"Why?"

His answer was an inarticulate snarl as the cub lunged for him gracelessly. He stepped aside easily and, instead of back-handing him as he originally intended, snagged the slender neck and pulled it against him. 

"Why?" He asked again.

The cub kicked against him but was in bad position to put any strength into it. He secured his grip and slammed the cub into the solid oak trunk. The golden eyes glazed, and he took the opportunity to look back at his other captive. The human was slumped against his restraints, motionless. The alpha male was keeping a good eye, as well as several limbs, on him. He had time. 

"Let's see," he cocked his head at the cub, who had more or less recovered from having his head smashed against the trunk. Good recuperative ability, he probably needed to watch out for that. "Either you don't know how to speak, or that tongue of yours is nothing more than a useless piece of meat. If it's the latter, I'll just do you a favor and remove it from of your mouth. Clean out the trash, so to speak."

A sobbed breath. "… won't… let you…"

"What was that, cub?"

"…won't let you hurt him… kill…. Never!!"

"Why? What is he to you?"

The cub's fierce countenance faded, replaced halfway with confusion. Then it growled at him and fought twice as hard to escape the restraint on his neck. The dirty fingers pulled and scratched at his upper arm, and there were just enough baby claws in them for it to hurt. 

With an oath, he lunged and kneed the boy in the stomach hard, doubling the small body in two with the force of it. The golden eyes widened, pupils constricting into pin-points, then the small body went limp in his hand. He looked down at his captive disgustedly. There was no challenge in this. The body was thrown aside carelessly and he strolled back to the monk.

He knelt down in front of the young man and grabbed a handful of silky blond hair, using it to pull the limp head up. He blinked in surprise. The face was slack, the pupils of those lovely violet eyes expanded so wide they almost swallowed the irises. There were no comprehension in those eyes, which was somewhat expected, but the tears that silently glided down tracks etched into those blood-encrusted cheeks were a definite surprise.   

"My, my, I'm shocked at you, little monk," he murmured. "I never figure you for the type to cry so easily. Does it really hurt all that much? Or is it the fear that made you weep?"  

No response. Not even a flicker in those violet orbs. That indifference stoked the familiar fire of sullen resentment in his belly. He would not be ignored. Never again. He had shown those dim-witted sheep the price of thumbing their nose at him, for ignoring him like a cur in the street. He would not tolerate it from one that was his prey, his victim.

"Time to wake up, sleeping beauty," he hissed maliciously, sliding his palm down the monk's smooth back, all the way to the curve of his waist. Then his fingers curved in and he viciously dug his nails, carving a deep furrow up the back. Laughter started to bubble up in anticipation of the scream, but it died stillborn as nothing happened. The monk's face remained blank, impassive, the body under his hand as limp and lifeless as a puppet. 

The alpha male gave a confused whuff, understanding in some level that something was wrong, but unable to grasp what had changed.

"What kind of trick this is, monk?" He hissed, feeling the fury boiling past his careful controls. He did not understand how the monk could remain impassive in the face of such pain, and the small kernel of uncertainty made him mad. "Do you think you could escape me using some sort of meditation technique?" 

He tore his hand loose from the ripped back and clutched the monk's face with a bloody hand. The thick coppery smell of it filled his nostrils, tickling against his palate. Still there was no reaction. 

"Remember the eye, monk?" He grated, the fury making its way into his voice. "I was interrupted just now, but now that I've taken care of the distraction it's time to go back for the main course. How about it, monk? If you beg nicely, I might consider sparing your eyes. From the others, I had the impression that losing an eye hurt like nothing else does."

Nothing.

With a snarl, he set his claws just below the brow bone, fully intending to claw the eyeball out.  

Something raised the hair on the back of his neck, an unpleasant prickle of energy that made him turn his head. 

The cub was standing again. The head hung low as it stood half-bent, a thin trickle of blood running down its narrow chin. The incredulity he felt was fast overtaken by murderous irritation. He had no more appetite for this game. All he wanted was to be left alone so he could claw open the monk's defense piece by piece, to reach his consciousness wherever it was he had hidden it inside his psyche. 

He let the monk go with a growl and stalked over to the small youkai. He was going to rip it apart, limb-to-limb, and scatter the innards all over the clearing. Let the monk see then when he woke up, what had become of his defender. 

He was within touching distance, just starting to reach for the still body, when the cub suddenly disappeared from his sight. There was a split-second of open-mouthed disbelief, then what felt like a steel hammer wielded by a giant punched into his stomach. His mouth opened in a breathless scream as he felt the blow straight up to his spine and his guts felt as if they would be forced out through his back. He barely felt his knees hitting the ground, his eyes rising in some instinctive reaction, just in time to see a blur of fist that punched him in the side of the face.

He landed on the ground barely conscious, the stench of his own blood filling his mouth. Survival instincts were screaming for him to roll away, avoid the next coming blow, but for the moment his body was stunned into immobility. There was a sudden snarl of rage, a sharp scuffling sound. It gave him enough time for his healing ability to kick in, and he blinked open slowly focusing eyes. 

The alpha male had flung two tentacle limbs to snag the cub's ankle. The cub was down on the ground, awkwardly turned around as he tried to reach the limbs holding him in place. The limbs kept twisting on the ground like a restless snake, tumbling him on the ground and escaping his grasp. The cub's head rose suddenly, and he was transfixed by the burning, molten gold in those eyes. They glowed with a light of their own, like miniature suns. And there was something that defied perception in their depth, a half open door to something so deep and endless it defied his understanding. 

The cub – no, the _bakemono_ – snarled again in anger and finally found a grip on the limbs. The narrow shoulders heaved once, and the alpha male's scream jarred his ears as the limbs were ripped apart. 

That shook him awake. He understood the situation enough to know that the only chance he had to take down this _thing_ was while the alpha male was still there to distract it. Alone, his chance lessened considerably. 

Anger burned away the hesitation in him and he lunged for the cub, managed to tackle him before it could completely tear itself away from the entwining limbs. Once he had it straddled on the ground, he pummeled it with punches, putting all his weight and upper body strength into it. There was no grace in it, just brute force trying to batter the life out of the enemy. The cub managed to get his arms up, but most of the blows got through. The golden eyes were narrowed to slits as blow after blow rained down, and more blood was coughed out of the small mouth. 

He was just readying himself for the final blow when the cub's eyes snapped open again, the golden irises growing impossibly wide as their pupils constricted into narrow slits. He felt the power building then, under him, like riding on the edge of a lightning strike. He reared back, suddenly afraid, and _that_ was when he felt the other storm building all around him, filling the clearing, heard the frantic yelps from the alpha male. 

Too late, he snapped his head back to the young monk. Only to see awareness poured back into those empty violet eyes, and all the power crackling with him at the center. The stole around his shoulders began to glow a blinding white, the spidery scrawl on them turning incandescent and starting to writhe like a living thing. 

He shouted an order at the alpha male, frantically throwing himself at the monk.

The storm broke.  

***

For a long while afterwards, there was only silence in the clearing, and a peculiar ozone- tinged smell of scorched flesh. There was not even enough left to make a pile of ash. The _Maten Kyomon_, when utilized properly, left barely anything to mark the passing of those it had judged.

Sanzo lay face up on the hard ground, staring at the night sky. Dear gods, he hurt all over. There were new wounds that he did not recall receiving. He was sticky all over with his own sweat and blood, and his body had flatly refused to listen to his brain's directions to move. Not that his mind was in any better state. A deep, exhausted lassitude had fallen over his thoughts, born from over-exertion of the mental and spiritual kind. Using the _Maten Kyomon_ had always left him feeling drained, but never to this extent. Maybe the physical and emotional stress had aggravated the effect. 

There was something different in the summoning of the power this time, but the dream-like memories had already started to escape him. He was not sure that he was sorry about it – there was a deep feeling of pain and loss entwined with those memories. But there was also a feeling of peace, a beloved memory, and a nagging disquiet that he was missing something important. But the disquiet faded away like a caress in a dream, and he was back on the ground, alone.  

There was nothing he wanted more than to close his eyes and sleep. But it he did that, the next time he woke up may be in the after life. He may be hurting, but he was not ready to take that step yet. It would have smacked of surrender. 

Besides, there was an unfinished business he had to take care of first.

He worked some moisture in his mouth and tried to speak. Coughed twice before he could push something resembling words out of his throat.

"Oy, _saru_. Still alive?"

A long silence stretched and he was just starting to worry when a rather dazed voice answered. 

"Um."

A tension he had not even known let go in his chest, and suddenly breathing did not seem to hurt quite as much. 

"_Baka_."

An affronted silence. Then – "Am not."

Despite himself, he felt his mouth stretch into a grin. It felt good, even though it hurt his face. Gods, he did not know a smile needed so many muscles. 

"Can't you even fight properly, _baka_? Why'd I always have to pull your tail out of the fire?"

He heard some scraping sounds, then a defeated thud on the ground. 

"Not me fault!"

Somehow, he did not need to see the boy's face to know what he would look like. The voice managed to convey injured dignity perfectly well. 

"Yeah, yeah."

Silence again as he rested. Even those few words had exhausted him. How was he supposed to trek back to the village?  

"_Saru_."

A mumbled reply came somewhere from the boy's direction.

"You sleeping?"

"… am not."

"Why'd you come back?"

Silence.

"I told you I'd shoot you next time I see you."

Silence again, stretching longer. Then torturous scuffing sounds, scrabbling in the ground and a faint bitten-off yelps now and then. He heard the heavy, unsteady footsteps long before the boy's dirty and bloodied face came into his line of sight. 

He looked terrible, one eye and one side of the face beginning to swell with what promised to be spectacular bruises, a split lip, and blood still trickling down the side of his mouth. Sanzo remembered the harsh beatings he had overheard before he sank down past his consciousness. Internal injuries, most likely. Hopefully that appetite of his also meant he had a strong recuperative power. 

The face peered down at him, then turned away as the boy half-sat, half-fell on the ground beside his head.   

He could not see him from where he lay staring straight up. He could move his head that fraction to the side, but at the moment he did not feel any need to. 

The boy was silent for a long time, and Sanzo just lay there, feeling a lazy stupor beginning to overtake him. The pain was a distant thing now, and the cold wind had even stopped bothering him. Sanzo had enough presence of mind left to know that he was in trouble, but getting up seemed to be too much effort right now. 

Small, feverish-hot hands took his left palm, sandwiching it between their warmth. 

The hands were shaking, and not from the cold.

"I… went away… like you said…"

"Tried. Cross the river. Far away."

"Keep coming back. Go away. Come back. Go away. Come back again."

There was a tremor in the voice. 

"Tired of going away."

"You said you don't want a pet…"

That was not exactly what he had said, but the gist was correct. 

"I'm not a pet."

The voice was fierce. 

  
_Showing some backbone, aren't you, saru._

"That's right," he heard himself saying. "You're not a pet. You're not an animal. That's why you have to choose your own path. You can't just keep on following me." 

You would just be in another prison then.

A pause. "You… tell me to go where I want to."

"Aa."

"Choose where I want to."

Sanzo stared at the blurring night sky above. His own younger self, kneeling in front of all the monks in the temple – _I will go down the mountain and find the one who killed my master. I will take back what is mine, the Seiten Kyomon._

"…yes."

"Then…" Hesitation, then resolve. "…then I choose to go with you."

Sanzo slowly shifted his head aside to stare at the boy. He sat there in his torn clothes, teeth gnawing his lips in an unconscious nervous gesture. But he met his gaze without flinching and the eyes were unshadowed with doubts. 

Still, when the silence stretched, the resolve bled away to reveal painful uncertainties. His voice was small when he asked, "Can I?"

He could almost hear the sound of his Master laughing. _You did tell him to choose, Koryuu. Will you take that away from him?_ A smile almost twigged his mouth. _Sneaky old man_, he scolded his memory and was rewarded with a smile from a ghost. _Could you tell him why you would refuse him?_

It would not work, he argued. It should not. Sanzo was pretty sure that if his head were working properly at the moment, he would have found a hundred perfectly reasonable, perfectly valid reasons why it was so. As it was… 

"… for now."

The head that had started to droop snapped up so fast it should have given him a backlash. Wide golden eyes stared at him in disbelief.

"Eh?"

Sanzo grunted. "Problems with your ears? I said, for now. Just until you figure out what to do with yourself, or until I got tired of you. Just remember, I'm not your keeper, and if you got too annoying, I have _my_ choice to kick you ass back where you come from. Got that?"

The smile that bloomed across the boy's entire face could have rivaled the sun for its warmth. "Got it, Sanzo."

"Good," he said sleepily, glad that it was all resolved, because he could not have kept his eyes open for another second. Just a few minutes, that was all, he promised himself. After that, then he would drag himself up and start for the village. 

He was vaguely aware of the boy's voice calling his name with a trace of alarm, but it was too muted to be of any distraction. Oh, yes. They still have not found out what the _saru_'s name was. That was something else to think about. But that was for later. 

For now, he would rest. 

***

Notes:

Er… epilogue coming soon. I think ^^;;


	6. Binding Fate - Epilogue

**A SAIYUKI FAN FICTION******

**By NAGA******

****

_Disclaimer: This fanfic is based on Saiyuki by Minekura Kazuya. There is no profit to be made and no copyright infringement was intended. ___

_Ratings : PG13 (I think ^^;, violence, no adult content, sorry folks ; )___

_Timeline : The story starts before Genjo Sanzo's first meeting with Son Gokuu___

_Spoiler  : A tiny bit - mostly from the Shuen story line     ___

**BINDING FATE******

****

EPILOGUE

_[5 weeks later…]_

Sanzo tightened the straps of his sandals and slung his carry bag over his shoulder. He took the walking staff leaning on the wall and flexed his right fingers experimentally around it. Still a little stiff, but acceptable. The healer had assured him that he would regain full use of that arm in time. 

"Leaving so soon?"

Sanzo glanced at the door where his host stood, her bulk half-blocking the exit. He snorted and replied, not without humor, "The sooner I get out of your hair, the better it is for both of us. I don't think I made a very good patient."

She smiled, her plain face warm with dry amusement. "Correction. You made a horrible patient." She laughed when Sanzo rolled his eyes with exasperation. "But don't think that we're not grateful." Her voice softened. "We've been praying for years that the gods will send someone to help us purge the terror in the forest. Seems like the gods have answered, even if you are not quite what we had expected."

Sanzo twitched irritably. "Yes, I heard that a lot."  

The woman's smile only widened. "But I do wish you would stay a bit longer. You were very lucky that a traveling chi-healer was visiting our place. Without his skills, you would have died or lose the use of your broken arm. The gods must be looking after you, Sanzo-sama."

Sanzo kept his mouth firmly shut on that. His opinions on deities in general were not what one would expect from someone anointed as one of the _Sanzo-hoshi_. He doubted that the gods had lifted a finger to help him, but he did owe _someone_ at least some part of his survival, as much as it made him surly to dwell on it. 

"Of course," the woman continued blithely, "if not for that sweet young boy, we would never have gotten our hands on you in time. To think that he managed to drag you out of the woods all by himself… When he came running in the middle of the night for help, he was already in such a bad state too…"

"Yes, yes…," Sanzo cut in, "you've been telling me that since I woke up. If you don't mind, I need to go now. Thank you for all your help."

She sniffed at him. "Well, very well. But have you thanked _him_ yet? I don't think I've heard you say even three civil words to him since you woke up, and he's been by your bedside every single moment until you chased him away." 

She rode right over Sanzo's attempts to speak up. "It may not be my place to say this, but it's really not acceptable behavior. The poor boy obviously looked up on you as a substitute family as some sort, maybe because you saved him from that murderous _youkai_. And with him losing all memory of where he comes from, or even what his name is, he needs all the emotional support he can get, until you can find him his real family. And here you've been treating him as if you would rather he doesn't exist." And there she stood with her faintly accusing eyes, arms folded in front of her considerable bosom and looking in all the world like a mother scolding an errant child. 

The ironic thing was that he could not argue the finer points of her accusations without blowing their hastily concocted cover story to hell. It also would have been easier to argue with her if some damned part of his conscience was not halfway inclined to agree with her. 

"Look," he finally sighed. "I'll… remember… what you said. But it really is time for us to get going. Speaking of which, where is he?"

She inclined her head to the back. "Over at grandma Wang's house. She's been telling him the old stories." She smiled again, displeasure forgotten. "He's the only one that didn't already know all of grandma Wang's stories. And it does her good, to have such an enthusiastic audience."

Sanzo nodded at her and deftly slipped out the doorway before she started pestering him again. Outside, the sun beat down strongly out of deep blue sky dotted with puffs of clouds. It was a perfect day for traveling and he was more than ready to continue his journey. Too much time had been wasted on the wrong trail, even if the one he had caught was as much as murderer as the one who had killed his master. 

But first, he had something to pick up. 

It was a short trip to the old woman's house, the storyteller that had first told of him of the legends of Gojyo-san. What a perfect waste of time that had turned out to be. The passing time must had twisted the truth out of recognition. Whoever or whatever the boy had been, it would have stretched credibility too much for him to be the one described in the legends. A coincidence, that was all it had been. 

And that surge of alien power he had felt just before the _Maten-Kyomon_ was unleashed had nothing at all to do with the monkey boy. Absolutely nothing. 

He found both old story-teller and the boy on the shaded porch of her house. The boy was squatting on the dirt in front of the old grandmother, face turned up with rapt attention as he listened to the tremulous voice weaving another one of the old stories. 

"Oy," he called out. The boy's head snapped to him, and he leapt to his feet with a cry. 

"Sanzo, you're up? We going now?"

His speech had improved during his stay on the village. They had been more willing to tolerate his chatter, made more sympathetic by the mistaken belief that the boy had been a victim of the youkai's attack. The women in particular, from girls little older than the boy's apparent age to old grandmothers like the story-teller, adored him and spoiled him mercilessly. There was more flesh on that spare frame, not a small feat considering how much the little runt could pack in. The shirt and draw-string trousers he was wearing were not only decent, they were almost new. Sanzo remembered seeing one of the women sewing them up from her children's cast-offs. 

As the boy bounded over to him, Sanzo scrutinized the large eyes critically. They were still that rich shade of brown, glints of gold only showing now and then when the sunlight hit them just right. He had no idea how the boy had managed that, and it irked him. It did not help that the boy could no more explain what it was he had done. When Sanzo had first woken up in the small room after the battle, the first thing he thought of was that the boy had brought him there. His second thought was that the _saru_ must be dead, taken apart by enraged villagers who could not see beyond the golden eyes of a youkai. He had been stunned speechless when the boy had peeked up from the bedside where he had piled on his beddings, not the least because the familiar eyes confronting him was no longer that damning shade of gold, but the current rich brown.

When asked, he had only blinked and said – "You told me my eyes looked like _youkai_. So I changed 'em." 

Right.

"Sanzo, grandma Wang tells me lots of good stories. They're so good, d'you want me tell you?"

"No," Sanzo curtly said, shuddering inward at the very thought of how many stories the boy had heard, and how many days of chatter that would translate to. He bowed instead to the old story-teller. "Thank you for taking care of this… boy… for me. It must have taxed your patience."

There was a distinct glint of merriment on the old woman's eyes. "Not at all, young man. It's so refreshing to find someone who is such a good listener. I've just been telling him the legend of Gojyo-san, the one that I've told you before. Unlike some people," she looked at him pointedly, "he does not run off in the middle of the story. In fact, he has asked me to re-tell it three times."

"Sanzo," the youkai boy bounced on his feet to get his attention. "Sanzo, I have a name now. My name is 'Go-kuu'! Son Gokuu."

Sanzo gaped at him, thunder-struck. His mind chased its own tails and entangled itself helplessly. 

He dimly heard the old woman laughing in the background. "Oh, he liked that name, he really did. Just up and jumped after I told the tale for the second time, and insisted that he wanted that name for himself. I offered him so many other nice names to choose from, but he wouldn't change his mind."

Sanzo closed his mouth. Opened it and tried again. "Why'd you… choose _that_ name?"

The boy cocked his head to one side, looking slightly puzzled. "Why… it's a nice name, right?"

"That's all?" Sanzo asked through dry throat. 

For a moment, the eyes had looked distant, a hint of gold showing through the brown irises. "…yeah."

Of course. It was only a name to him. Nothing more. No other significance. Sanzo took a deep breath, cursed himself for a fool, and glared down at the small, brightly-grinning face below him. Son Gokuu. Seiten Taisei Son Gokuu – the legendary destroyer of heavenly courts. 

When hell freezes over. 

"I am most definitely _not_ calling you that." He flatly declared. He turned on his heels and marched away. He could hear the old woman cackling like mad behind him and the boy wailing, "Why?"

"Do you even know what it meant?" He snapped back, not decreasing his pace at all. 

"I know! It's got good meaning. Important meaning."

Sanzo stopped and glared at him. "What meaning?"

The youkai boy scrunched up his face and waved his hands, "Umm, empty… understanding emptiness… something… y'know… _deep_ meaning…"

Sanzo snarled and marched on, ignoring the yelped cry to wait. "That's it. I'm calling you _saru_, that's closer to your level of intelligence anyway."

More wailings. "But I'm not an animal! Sanzo, _ne… Sanzo-tebaa!!_"

They were nearing the exit of the village, and to Sanzo's surprise, quite a crowd was gathering nearby. Apparently news of their leaving had spread and some of the residents, more than half of the female population, had come to say goodbye. He endured the well-wishings and thanks with as much grace as he could muster. A good thing that most of the well-wishers gave him respectful distance and did not attempt to touch him. The boy was another matter entirely. He was patted in the back, crushed to bosoms, and passed from one to another like some sort of well-loved pet mascot. There were lots of tears involved, lots of promises extracted to come back to them if the priest did not treat him well, and many gifts of bundled food boxes for the journey. Sanzo gritted his teeth and accepted an extra bundle of provisions shoved into his hands that came with warnings not to 'eat them all up and leave the poor boy starving'. 

"Oy," he finally shouted to the boy, chattering happily in the middle of all the women. "We're going already!"

"Okay," the boy shouted back, extracted himself from the crowd, and waved back at them cheerfully. "Bye-bye, everyone! Thank you so much!"

A girl cupped her hands and shouted, loud enough to be heard from the other end of the village – "_Sayonara_, _Gokuu_!!"

Sanzo tripped himself on the perfectly even road. 

A chorus of voices soon took up the cry, and shouts of 'genkidane, Gokuu', 'see you again, Gokuu', 'take care, Gokuu', filled the clear morning air. 

Sanzo fixed his eyes on the horizon and grimly walked on without a backward look. In a very short while, a light pattering of footsteps sounded beside him and a hopeful voice called up to him. "_Ne_, Sanzo, where are we going?"

"You wouldn't know the place even if I told you."

"_Ne_, Sanzo, you haven't said my name yet." 

"I told you I'm NOT calling you that."

"Why not? Why? Why?"

"_Urusai - baka saru!_"

"Oww! You don't hafta hit me!"

"Then stop yapping and start walking."

"… Sanzo."

"What?!"

"Can I start eating the _bento_? I'm kinda hungry already…"

"…why me?"

And so as they walked, the priest and the boy following behind him, the rising sun shone from the east and stretched their shadows towards the west. And two very different shadows merged together and meld into one, inseparable one from the other. 

***

_[Somewhere not too far away….]_

"You know, Bousatsu-sama, are you sure what we've been doing is not against the rules somewhere?"

"You worry too much, Jiroushin. It's not like anyone else is watching. Besides, what is one to do when it gets too boring up here?"

 "…nothing good ever comes up when you're bored…"

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

"_Iya_, just talking to myself, Kanzeon Bousatsu-sama. But why interfere so much? Why ask _me_ to go down and heal that young priest? What does it matter if he's dead or alive?"

"Oh, Shijin, you have no imagination at all. You know whose incarnation that boy is."

"Actually, I _do_ know. That's why I'm worried."

"Hmmph. Like I said, no imagination. And no sense of adventure. The three out of the four have not met together for the longest time, several incarnations now. Somehow, whenever they _do_ meet, the most interesting things tend to happen. The timing and circumstances are looking right for another meeting this time. And when you throw in the last of the four… well, I have high hopes for them. What do you think?"

"… frankly, Bousatsu-sama, the thought frightens me. You know what happened the last time the four of them are together. I thought the Jade Emperor specifically ordered them broken up."

A smile. "Well, the Jade Emperor seemed to be preoccupied for the moment. And who knows, maybe another… shake-up… is exactly what we need right now."

A petal drifted down onto the still water of the sea of blooming lotuses, a vast expanse of the flowers stretching away into infinity. A soft voice drifted over the still air, over the flowers. "And may you succeed this time, where you have failed before… old friend."

OWARI – THE END

***

Notes:

Naga did an impromptu victory dance Gaaahhh!! It's finally finished. C&C would be most welcomed ^__^


End file.
